The Parts we Play
by a starr in photo
Summary: The words were out of his mouth before he could help it, "she's my wife." Too late to take it back. They were stuck, for the duration of her recovery. He was trapped to wallow in the guilt. Eliot/Parker developing relationship.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This idea absolutely began with a wonderful, wonderful piece of fanfiction which I highly recommend called "Letting Go" by swanxsong. I love love the idea of pain and bashing and stuff being what brings Eliot and Parker together, but I have a fondness for hurting Parker, and I love when Eliot goes all protective and caring and such. FEAR NOT MY GRASSHOPPERS, this will end up going in a completely different direction than "Letting Go" well, still with eventual Parker/Eliot.

* * *

><p>Eliot could feel his heart sinking, the scream of Parker being pitched over the side of the fifty story building piercing his ear drums. He watched as her harness did nothing to break her fall, anchored on nothing. He lunged at it, grabbing at the rope as it snaked over the edge, crashing through the two large men who stood in his way, incapacitating as a reflex. "Parker!" He couldn't hear himself, didn't realize that he was screaming.<p>

A loud crash rang out, and he sank to his knees at the edge of the building. He had one job on the team, one job as far as he was concerned, every other task just an extension of his goal. He was supposed to keep them alive, keep them uninjured. And he had failed. After all those years, all those scares, all that crazy, and he had failed.

"Eliot."

"Eliot."

"Eliot."

Too many voices in his head. Frantic, worried, he couldn't blame them, they had no idea what was going on, could only listen through the earbuds. But then he isolated it, the meeker, quietest voice in his ear, Parker's voice.

"Eliot, help," she managed, and he lunged at the edge, nearly tumbling over himself as he looked down the building. There she was, three stories down on scaffolding.

"Can you climb up?" Eliot whispered into the com, his voice hoarse from screaming. "If I throw you a rope?"

"No," her raspy reply, and Eliot was sure it was from the ear piercing shriek she had let out as she fell. And for some reason, that alone hurt more than anything, she had been scared. Parker, who lept out of windows superman style with only the sheer hope that Eliot would be there, was scared, because she had known he wouldn't be there. He had failed exponentially. "My arm is definitely broken, I can see bone, and I think my leg is too, but it didn't pierce skin." She replied, trying to clear her throat.

"Stay there, don't move, I'm coming to get you." Eliot growled, turning around and full speed ran down the three flights, locating the office he would need to get to her, he kicked in the door. "Hardison," Eliot snarled as he walked into the office, not mad at the hacker, just angry in general, "we're going to need an ambulance, but can you delay it until we're out of the building? It'll look too suspicious, and I've gotta break the windows." He glanced over the panes, having noted with frustration that not a single one opened. And the small whimper that rang through his head as Parker shifted slightly nearly broke his heart.

"Yeah man, got it," Hardison's reply.

He selected the window farthest from her that still had the scaffolding on the other side, and ripping off his button up shirt, he wrapped his fist with it and punched through the window with ease, not noticing the snarl he let out. Stepping out onto the rigging, he could finally see the full extent of the damage, the unnatural lumps under the skin on her leg, her pant leg hitched up to her knee. There was blood though, everywhere, and clearly Parker had been under-reacting as he noted the bone protruding through the skin of her arm in three places. He swallowed the lump in his throat, injuries had never bothered him. Blood and bone, he had killed people for god's sake. This was different though. This wasn't an enemy, but it was still his fault.

"It might hurt more to move you," he warned, "but there's no way to get you help up here," his voice was uncharacteristically soft, his eyes wide as he blinked back moisture.

"I'll be fine, just, don't touch my arm," she had it cradled to her chest, and he noted with some grim relief that at least she was wearing black, and he couldn't see the bloodied stains on the shirt, he was sure that they were there.

"I won't, darlin," he scooped her up gently, an arm supporting her back, the other under her knees, as careful as he could be about not disturbing her also injured leg. "The elevators still aren't in operation, so we have to take the stairs, let me know if I'm hurting you, okay?" She just nodded, sucking in a sharp breath as he stepped back through the window.

"Thank you," she whispered, resting her head against his chest, and he knew he'd never mention to anyone that she was crying, and never tell anybody about the look of sheer terror on her face as he watched her go over the side of the building.

"For what, darlin?" He couldn't help but ask. She had nothing to thank him for as far as he was concerned.

"For being there," she whispered out, relaxing slightly into his grip, he could tell adrenaline was flooding her system, that she couldn't feel how badly she was injured anymore, and he seriously had to wonder about the girl. Maybe he had been more right about crazy than he had thought, because she should have gotten the adrenaline rush as soon as she was pitched over the building if not before.

He wasn't sure how long it took him to descend the 47 flights of stairs, only that he was fairly certain he did so much more quickly than he should have, more concerned about the blood loss than discomfort in her leg. The ambulance was being called for a building a block and a half away, Hardison had informed him, and he didn't bother to stop and talk to the team when he exited the building, only numbly moved on, desperately needing to get Parker okay as soon as possible.

He stayed with her in the ambulance, probably a good thing, because his glares kept the interrogating questions at bay, and he only relaxed slightly when he watched the needle pierce her unbroken arm, sending a steady drip of morphine into her system. She would be okay. He was sure of it now, though he had doubted some before.

He was unable to bully his way into the operating room once they took her away, he couldn't create too much of a fuss, couldn't fight too violently against the nurses and doctors pushing him away from her. He was resigned to the waiting room, and the rest of the team met him there.

"How is she?" Sophie asked gently, laying a comforting hand on Eliot's shoulder. She hadn't expected the violent flinch away from it, before he looked up and realized who it was.

"She'll live." Eliot's gruff reply. "They got x-rays and took her right into surgery. From the looks of her arm she'll need pins in a few places, but I don't know about her leg, it didn't look like just a simple fracture." He was familiar with injuries, more than any of them. He was more than fairly certain that she would need at the very least a plate and screws in her leg, it looked shattered, not just fractured.

"You haven't heard anything since?" Hardison asked, his brow furrowed deeply, and Eliot sank back in to the chair, another wave of guilt hitting him. He hadn't just hurt Parker, it wasn't just her, he had also hurt the rest of the team. They couldn't trust him anymore, he had caused harm to come to Parker, and it could have just as easily been any of them.

"No, but I uh, told the nurses that we were married, so they'd give me information, is there any way you can uh, modify some documents or something for our covers?" Eliot glanced worriedly at the hacker, not wanting to burden the man anymore, but it was for Parker, and he owed her everything.

"No respect, no respect," Hardison complained, "yeah let me just fabricate marriage certificates in a hospital on my cellphone." He grinned at Eliot though, and the hitter knew he could do it. "What names did you give them?"

"I gave them Madison Kline, it was the first thing that came to mind," Eliot replied quickly. "I didn't give them my name though." He sat up, crossing his arms.

"That'll work, Madison is a staunch feminist, so I can change the last name on one of your covers, make it look like you took her name." Eliot growled slightly at that, and Hardison raised an eyebrow, "Your fault, dude, I'm just working with what I've got." Hardison pulled out his netbook (and Eliot was sooo not surprised that he had it with him) and started working.

It was nearly two hours later when Hardison set down his laptop and started doing his little happy dance. "You so, so owe me, dude." Eliot looked up, having nearly nodded off, he rubbed his eyes.

"Yeah sure, just fill me in." Cue growl.

"I used your Alexander Leman cover, you two met two years ago through work, she was working at a bakery that she owns and manages, you were driving delivery trucks while going to school full-time to be an architect. You started dating two months after that, your first date you took her out to a restaurant you couldn't really afford, real fancy, you had saved up for it, but it went terribly, as per your facebook statuses' about it. Neither of you fit the fancy scene, but you begged for a second chance, and you took her rock climbing and immediately hit it off. " Hardison took a dramatic deep breath.

"About six months ago, you proposed to her, you asked her if she wanted to go rock hunting, and handed her a brochure for a diamond mine in Arkansas. You two both took time off and traveled to the mine and went diamond hunting. Madison thought it was a fun idea and was completely shocked when you two found a thirty carat yellow diamond. You suggested that you two get it cut and turn it into a ring. She said it was pretty in its own right, and didn't see why you wanted to cut it."

"At that point, you explained that you wanted to ask her to marry you, but you didn't have enough money to buy her a ring that she deserved, and so you had suggested that you come here to find something you could have cut to hold her over until you were established. She was ecstatic, said yes, and informed you that she didn't want you to buy one, because the yellow diamond was clearly a sign that you two were meant to be. The diamond was cut into two stones, a smaller one, at five carats for her ring, and a larger one, at 15 carats that you had put on a necklace for her as well. You can pick those up from the jeweler about ten minutes away from here after we get more information about her status."

Eliot just kind of raised an eyebrow, he hadn't expected this much detail, but he was eternally grateful, the man had a knack for the often overlooked but supremely important details to make a cover convincing.

"You married two and a half months ago in Montana, which is where you're from, obviously. It was an outdoor wedding with an impressive snowcapped mountain backdrop. The weather was beautiful, she wore a cream colored dress, you wore a navy tux because Madison rejected tradition but kept enough to keep your overbearing rancher mother happy. You honeymooned in London, Paris, Berlin, Istambul, Dubai, Beijing, Capetown and Melbourne before settling in Jaco, Costa Rica for a week. You saw monkeys and crocodiles, while living in a little cottage right on the beach. Weather was perfect, it only rained one day. You two got back a month ago and have been settling into your new lives together, at which point, your dog, Fitzgerald, named after Madison's favorite author, got underfoot and she fell out of the open apartment window. Said puppy, and apartment are currently being prepared, I've got a guy who owes me a favor fixing it up according to the plans, it's the apartment building right in front of where the ambulance picked you up, yep, just that good." Hardison mimicked popping his collar before sinking back into the seat with a smug look on his face.

"Family of Madison Kline?" A doctor in scrubs walked into the waiting room, looking around, and Eliot sprang out of his seat.

"Right here, ma'am," he waved over at her, "Alex Kline, how's Maddie?" holding out his hand.

She shook it gently, "She made it out of surgery just fine, we set the bones in her arm, but had to use screws to keep them stabilized, the fracture in her leg was more severe, we used several plates and a titanium rod to keep the limb stabilized. Once the swelling goes down, we'll cast both arm and leg, keep her for a few days to make sure she's free of infection and then you can take her home." She smiled at him, patting his hand.

"When can I see her?' He thrust his hands into his pockets, shifting uncomfortably.

"She's in recovery room 2, I can take you there now if you'd like," way too smiley.

"Yeah, can I just," he gestured over to the rest of the group, "her aunt and uncle and her cousin are here too."

"Cousin?" The woman raised an eyebrow.

"Woah, problem? He's adopted." Eliot held up his hands in mock offense.

"Sure, just keep the noise level to a minimum, she doesn't need any undue stress as she's coming out of the anesthesia." The woman nodded apologetically. And it Eliot probably would have laughed inside if he hadn't been so worried about her.

Eliot nodded and waved them over, taking a deep breath. He wasn't sure he was quite ready to face his guilt.


	2. Chapter 2

Eliot found himself blinking back moisture again as the group of four walked into the recovery room, the small blond woman on the bed, her arm and leg both tightly wrapped, an oxygen tube resting above her upper lip. It was his fault.

"Oh Parker," Sophie breathed out, walking over to the side of the bed. Sure everybody knew their line of work was dangerous, Sophie, Nate they'd both taken bullets, Hardison had been buried alive, and Eliot had taken the brunt of it. But somehow, they, all of them had never really considered the possibility of Parker getting hurt. She was too quick, to savvy at what she did. You had to get caught to get hurt, and none of them had imagined her getting caught.

Eliot cleared his throat though, giving a pointed look at Sophie, and she corrected herself, louder this time, "Madison," she whispered brushing hair out of Parker's face. Eliot too moved to tside of the bed, unable to keep the waves of heart wrenching guilt at bay.

Hardison perched himself on a chair beside her bed, and took her hand, the uninjured one in his own, a pained expression on his face and Eliot couldn't stop himself. He turned around and walked out.

Nate and Sophie shared a glance before she walked past him out the door to follow Eliot.

"Hardison," Nate moved away from the door, resting a hand on the hacker's shoulder. They all knew how much Hardison cared for Parker, all knew about the crush he was nursing, except for Parker naturally. "We're all worried, we all thought we lost her, but we've got to stick to the cover or it could end very badly for all of us. Alex is married to Madison, that's who they have to be right now, not Parker and Eliot, try not to think of them as Parker and Eliot."

"Eliot?" A soft raspy voice mumbled, and both Nate and Hardison craned their necks to look at the girl starting to stir. "Eliot?" Hardison dropped her hand, sitting up straighter.

"Hey woman," he smiled at her, much more convinced that she was going to be okay.

"Where's Eliot?" She looked around, trying to push herself into a sitting position, gasping sharply as she tried to put weight on her broken arm.

* * *

><p>"Alex," Sophie called after him sharply, trying to catch up, "Alex!" Louder this time as she pushed through the door into the waiting room.<p>

He spun around, eyes flashing violently before widening in surprise, like he had only just realized who it was following him. "What, Sophie?" He asked, decidedly slumping into one of the horribly uncomfortable waiting room chairs.

She perched herself right next to him, ignoring the flinch, "Alex," she leaned in closer, "Eliot, what is the matter with you. You're supposed to be acting like a concerned husband, not storming out of the room like a petulant child," Sophie voiced her concern, a hand resting on his arm gently. She wasn't really trying to grift with the man, but it was mostly a habit anyway,

"I-I," Eliot stumbled over the words and looked up at the woman who he considered much like an older sister or mother to him with the most broken expression that she had ever seen on his face. It lasted only a moment before he steeled himself, "I can't look at her, you saw how upset Hardison was, and its entirely my fault. She could have died, for all intents and purposes she should have, it was only sheer luck that she didn't."

"Oh El- Alex, its not your fault," she frowned, Eliot rarely opened up to anyone, and she couldn't remember a time when she had seen him so close to tears, and off handedly she had to wonder if maybe there was something else entirely that was bothering him. "We had no idea that Jacobs expected us, that he was waiting for her. Not even Nate figured it out." She knew she wasn't getting through to him, but she had no idea what to say.

"Its my job to make sure that none of you get hurt. I'm the hitter, I'm supposed to keep her safe. I was right there, Sophie, right in front of her and I couldn't help her." Eliot replied, his voice gruff and he brought a hand to his forehead, trying to blink back the moisture in his eyes again.

"She doesn't blame you, we don't blame you. You couldn't do anything, it happens, it was a difficult situation for all of us, and I'm sure both Nate and Hardison feel as equally responsible. Hardison lost his trace on the guy, Nate sent her in there. But its not their faults either, it's Jacobs. He pitched her off the roof, and we'll get him, and you can do what ever you like. But right now you get your arse back into that room and pretend to be a good concerned husband. Have your pity party later, this isn't about you right now," Sophie bit at him, her voice laced with authority.

His eyes widened slightly at the outburst, and while he couldn't blame her, he was a bit surprised at the commanding tone Sophie had never taken with him before. He nodded, feeling slightly selfish.

* * *

><p>"Oh good," Hardison breathed as he walked out of Parker's room, running into Eliot. "Man, Maddie is freaking out, I filled her in about everything, but she hasn't stopped asking for you since she woke up. Madison and morphine do not mesh."<p>

Eliot just kind of stared blankly at Hardison, "She asked for me?" Blink. Blink.

"Yeah man, well she asked for Eliot first, when she woke up, but now she's asking for Alex," Hardison replied, clapping him on the back. "I'm going to the cafeteria to get some orange soda, want anything?" Eliot just shook his head, not bothering to reply as he stepped into the room to see Parker, well Madison, sitting up in bed, leaning against the pillows.

"Alex!" She exclaimed with a smile, bouncing slightly in the bed, and once again Eliot was reminded that the girl was more than slightly clinically insane. He moved in closer, wondering absentmindedly where Nate had gotten off to. "Alex can we leave now?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, "No, you got out of surgery not even an hour ago, what is wrong with you?" He couldn't help himself, taking the tone he usually used with her when she was being weird. "Settle down, you're going to hurt yourself more, Darlin," he chastised, taking the seat next to the bed.

"But I don't want to be here, I feel fine I just want to go home," she whined, giving him wide puppy dog eyes that almost made him want to change his mind. "You're not going to leave, are you?" It was a one eighty change and threw Eliot for a loop.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked, crossing his leg, ankle on his knee as he reclined in the chair. He had no real intentions of leaving, unless she managed to escape him, in which case he'd hunt her down and find her, she was stuck with him. With a broken arm and a broken leg, there was no way he was letting her recover living alone, not to mention the cover that they'd have to keep until she was through with physical therapy. He was responsible, and Eliot Spencer, turned Alexander Kline did not shy from responsibility.

"No. Yes, get me Bunny?" She couldn't quite make up her mind, but that was the Parker he knew, morphine addled or not. "Leave to get me Bunny and then come back. You have to stay, right? Because we're married right now. Hardison said we have an apartment and stuff, until I'm better because of the doctor visits and stuff."

Eliot just raised an eyebrow, interrupted by the nurse who opened the door. "Oh dear, I'm sorry to interrupt, but we still have some tests to run," she gestured to the door, indicating for Eliot to leave. He stood up, hands thrust into his pockets.

"Excuse me, Ma'am, but what sort of tests?" He was suspicious. Paranoid even, something didn't feel right and he wasn't convinced that Jacobs wouldn't try a back handed attempt at murder; he wasn't particularly inclined to leave Parker's side.

"Mr. Kline, your wife fell three stories, according to your account, quite clearly she broke her arm and leg, but also several ribs and her collar bone, luckily she does not appear to have any internal damage, but we have to keep a close eye on her ribs, wouldn't want her to puncture a lung. I also have to change the dressings on her back." The nurse replied gently, clearly used to dealing with hostile spouses, but Eliot's eyes just grew wider.

Three stories was still three stories, he reminded himself, Parker was a trained climber, and jumper but people still died from falling three stories. He cursed internally. He had seen the blood and the bone and the weird direction that her foot had been pointing, but he hadn't stopped to wonder if there had been other injuries, and clearly that was a major oversight.

"Yes Ma'am. Maddie, I'mma run home and grab some of your things, alright? I'll be back in an hour or so?" He turned to her, not expecting the slight contortion of pain on her face and he silently vowed to never over look any injuries she might sustain again. But she nodded and he grumbled under his breath as he left the room.

"He cares for you a lot, doesn't he," the nurse commented as she moved to the bedside, urging Parker to roll onto her side so she could remove the bandage covering a large portion of her shoulder.

"Kind of in the job description," Parker replied, and couldn't help but giggle to herself at the pun she had just come up with.

"Well, he was very, very distraught when they brought you in, so I think you should go easy on him," the nurse smiled, firmly but gently cleaning the laceration. "Quite handsome isn't he, and a gentleman, you're a lucky woman."

Parker glanced over her shoulder at the nurse, swallowing a lump in her throat as she shifted awkwardly. She really was not good at this grifting stuff, and not for the first time, she wished that she could just be herself, because she was not too great at being other people. "Yeah, lucky," she murmured, wishing she had Sophie in her ear to whisper instructions the way she usually did.

* * *

><p>Eliot didn't bother to let the team know where he was going, he had his cell on him, if they needed to get a hold of him, they could, by calling or tracing the GPS that Hardison reminded him about constantly. His first stop had been the jewelry store Hardison had mentioned before, to pick up the ring and necklace that was meant to display their entanglement to the public. He did have to hand it to Hardison, the man had a way with details, and he had worked it out just so that Parker would be thrilled with the necklace and ring, they all knew yellow diamonds were her favorite, though Eliot had his suspicions that it had to do with robbing Tiffany's as a child with Archie.<p>

Glancing at the ring he didn't even want to think about how much it cost, sure they all had extravagant amounts of money stowed away all over the world, Parker more than any of them, but it still seemed strange to him to pay so much money for a shiny rock. He had no doubt that Parker felt the same, but for entirely different reasons, namely that she had no concept of paying for anything.

He ducked into a corner store on the way to her hangar, where he knew she kept the majority of her essentials despite numerous properties she owned through out the city. Eliot was quite familiar with hospital food, unfortunately, and knew Parker'd likely be much more cooperative if she had her favorite cereal, he considered buying two boxes, but with a sigh, purchased three, better to be safe.

He knew where her warehouse was, not because she had ever showed him, but because he always knew exactly where everybody was, whether they liked it or not. He couldn't protect anyone if he had no idea where they were. He had used every bit of sneak and stealth he had to follow her home on one occasion, made more complex by the fact that she seemed to have a fondness for entering random buildings to climb to the roof, or scale brick walls with out riggings or a harness. She had taken residence in a hangar just like the one in Boston, unsurprising to him, though he was a little miffed that she didn't even have a real kitchen.

The route there he had memorized, and hopped on a bus, not wanting to walk the three miles to the warehouse. The alarm system was a bit of a worry in the back of his mind, he knew from off handed comments that the entire place surrounding her little cove in the middle of the room was covered in different angled laser sensors, and he knew that she preferred just to slip through them, rather than disable the alarm system.

She was definitely twenty pounds of crazy, maybe more, but he knew her well enough that he guessed the access key in two tries, and disabled the alarm. He felt guilty though, as he stepped into her home, her nest, as he thought of it. She knew he was coming here, had told him to go, but he still felt as though he was intruding on something he really didn't belong in. He glanced around, selecting Bunny off of the bed first, stuffing him into one of her bags after he emptied the nylon rope and harness out of it. On second thought, he grabbed her museum book, and the blanket she had folded on the foot of her bed. A toothbrush, too he selected, and a picture off one of the tables.

He didn't recognize the young boy in the picture, but he could be pretty sure he knew who it was, her brother. There was no doubt in his mind, it was slightly torn, rough around the edges, and Eliot was pretty sure that she had dragged the photo through the foster care system with her. Perhaps it would bring her comfort, because if he knew anything about recovering from injuries like hers, they were in for the long haul.


	3. Chapter 3

"This stuff really this vile," Sophie commented as she dragged a fork through god knows what, sitting in the hospital cafeteria with Nate. He just chuckled, sitting back in his chair sipping a cup of black coffee.

"It's hospital food, it's supposed to be gross, to try and get you to leave more quickly," He was handling the hospital well, she noted though, surprisingly well, and Sophie sent silent prayers to the heavenly father that there wasn't a children's ward, that they hadn't seen and young kids, and that he was maybe a little bit drunk.

"Eliot seemed pretty upset," she set her fork down, giving up on the food, if you could even call it that. "He's taking this really hard, he didn't act like this when you and I were shot," she glanced up at Nate, instinctively trying to gauge his reaction.

"You're trying to get at something," Nate remarked, not a question, not even any interest shown, just a  
>simple statement of fact. She was a grade A grifter, the best as far as any of them were concerned, but Nate had known her for years, and even though he didn't even know her real name, he knew what to look for to read her.<p>

"I just can't help but wonder how Eliot really feels about Parker," she met Nate's eye before opening her mouth to continue, but he cut her off gently with the slight shake of his head.

"You want to get involved," he sat up in the chair and set his mug on the table, "oh no, no no no." He shook his head, "we are not getting involved. Even if you're right, we are not meddling. Look at our relationship; you're hardly qualified to stick your nose in."

She scoffed. "Our relationship has nothing to do with Eliot and Park-"

"Because we have nothing to do with Eliot and Parker. Stay out of it." Nate sighed, knowing for certain that Sophie was not about to listen to him.

* * *

><p>It took Eliot a little over an hour to get back to the hospital, this time with all the proper possessions, and he bee lined for Parker's room. She was asleep, he noted, peering through the window, but she stirred slightly as he opened the door and stepped inside.<p>

"Alex?" Her voice was husky from sleep, and she winced visibly as she attempted to sit up, he could tell that the morphine was wearing off, and knew her well enough to know she had refused more, Parker preferred to be alert, and drugs definitely subtracted from that.

"Hush, I got Bunny, and I brought you some other things, Darlin'," he set the duffel bag down on the night stand next to her bed and unzipped it, pulling out the kind of ratty stuffed bunny. He held it out to her, and when she struggled slightly to reach for it, Eliot tucked it into her side.

"What else did you bring?" Parker tried to sit up again, and Eliot leaned forward, helping more gently than she would have ever expected from him. "Come on, show me," she asked with forced excitement. He knew she was just as curious as she always was, but not even that was enough to forget about the sharp pains and stiffness, and Eliot still wasn't sure just how badly she had been hurt.

"Well first I stopped and got you some cereal, since the food here is nasty," he pulled one of the boxes out of the bag and handed it to her, setting the other two on the table. "Oooh," she smiled, a real one despite the situation and reached out with her good arm to take the box. She frowned, glancing from the box to her bandaged arm and back again before bringing the box to her mouth, attempting to open it with her teeth.

"Hey hey hey," Eliot interrupted, snatching the box away from her. He avoided the slobber and opened the box and the bag inside before handing it back. Parker just tucked the box between her thighs and shoved her good arm inside.

"What else did you bring me?" She asked through a mouth full of cereal, and Eliot just chuckled lightly.

"Just a few things from home," he used the word lightly, because the hangar hardly counted as a home. Or a house. "Your toothbrush," he raised an eyebrow as she shoveled another handful of sugary cereal into her mouth.

"That's exciting," she dead panned, and Eliot was mildly surprised at the response, not used to Parker using any sort of sarcasm, much less understand it.

"Your blanket," he continued, not bothering to reply, and he tossed it on the food of her bed, earning a soft smile from the thief. "Your museum book," he pulled it out of the bag and set it on the table, well within her reach, "though I'm sure you have it memorized by now," the back handed comments hadn't escaped Eliot, she was crazy, no doubt, but she did seem to have a flawless memory.

She laughed at that, though didn't deny it, "and this picture," he held out the picture frame, though she knew exactly what it was. She only had one. "I figured you might want it, since you're going to be here a few days."

She reached out silently, staring at the photograph for a few moments before she replied, "thank you." He could hear the hitch in her throat as she took the picture, and he could see the immediate change in demeanor.

"Oh also," he interrupted, uncomfortable with the look on her face. She glanced up immediately, setting the picture on the table. "Hardison told you the whole story right? Maddie and Alex?" She nodded.

He pulled the yellow diamond ring out of his pocket and he could have sworn that her eyes lit up, though it was probably just a reflection of the light.

"Pretty," she reached out with her left hand, the unbroken arm, and he caught her wrist firmly but gently before she could snatch the ring away from him. He deftly slid it onto her ring finger with a smirk, and followed it with a plain, much less impressive (to Parker) platinum band and it was only then when Parker realized he was wearing a matching band on his ring finger.

"There you go, we're married now." he grinned at her, and she wiggled her fingers around admiring the diamond and let out a little giggle. "There's a matching necklace too," he held it out to her.

She took it, holding the large diamond with a grin. It wasn't the biggest or heaviest she'd held, much less possessed, but this was different somehow. She hadn't stolen this one, it was given to her, and suddenly worried she hugged it to her chest looking up at Eliot with wide eyes.

"Do I have to give it back?" she panicked, now intimately attached to the stones. Eliot just rolled  
>his eyes.<p>

"Twenty pounds, twenty pounds. No if you want to keep them you can." If Hardison had planned on returning the diamonds, Eliot would front the money to keep them, it was the least he could do after all, he reasoned.

"Mine," was Parker's possessive reply, but she held it out to Eliot, "will you put it on me?" He nodded, taking the necklace by its platinum chain, and she straightened her back allowing room for Eliot to reach behind her. He sat on the edge of the bed, reaching his arms around her to clasp the necklace. He sat back, and while the yellow cushion diamond looked a bit off, juxtaposed with the pale blue hospital gown, he couldn't help but think that it suited her.

"How long do I have to be here?" She asked, back tracking as she suddenly remembered he had mentioned a while. She winced as she leaned back in the bed.

"A few days, so you ought to get some rest, Darlin'" he replied, moving the box of cereal to the night  
>stand. She nodded, settling down into the pillows.<p>

"Stay here."

Eliot nodded, "anything, Darlin'" and he meant it. He owed her, a lot, more than just a few sparkly jewels and cereal. Her eyes had already fluttered shut, and he wondered why she seemed to have latched onto him so much. With a mental shrug, he pulled her blanket over her and settled down into the chair. There was no way he'd be able to fall asleep, and he wished he had brought a book along with him.

"Maddie? Alex?" Sophie knocked on the door frame. Eliot brought a finger to his lips, standing up from  
>the chair and walking over to the older woman.<p>

"She just fell asleep," Eliot spoke softly, not wanting to wake up Parker. "I think she's got a bit of a problem with hospitals, she seems a little off, even considering the circumstances." If anybody knew what was up with Parker, he was sure it would be Sophie.

"Well she did have a pretty rough time in foster care, I'm sure she ended up in the hospital one time  
>or another, can't have too many pleasant memories," Sophie reasoned, and Eliot was too distracted to even notice her suspicious, calculating gaze.<p>

"I guess I didn't even think of that," Eliot mumbled, glancing over at the sleeping form.

"Why don't you run down to the cafeteria and get something to eat, I think Nate and Hardison are  
>still there. He's scheming though, I think we're headed back to the hotel we're booked in a little while," Sophie suggested, perhaps a little more than instinctively trying to persuade Eliot to listen to her.<p>

"Nah that's alright, I'm not hungry anyway, plus Maddie asked me to stay," the man replied with a small  
>smile. "I'll keep my com in though."<p>

"She asked you to stay?" Sophie raised an eyebrow at the revelation, "interesting."

"What? What's interesting?" Eliot asked, before remembering that it was Sophie, and he probably didn't  
>want to know. "You know what, never mind, I'll catch up with y'all later."<p>

"Suit yourself," Sophie replied, but the hitter could tell she was already lost in her head. She and  
>Nate were far more alike than either cared to admit. Eliot just shook his head and returned to the chair, he was going to be there a while.<p>

* * *

><p>"Do you have a trace on where he could be yet?" Nate asked as he sat next to Hardison, who was clacking away on his computer. They were still in the cafeteria, and Hardison seemed stressed but content with the large orange soda and the gummy frogs that Nate had all but bribed him with.<p>

"No man, you gotta give me some time," Hardison held up a hand, indicating that he needed silence  
>to continue. "You have got to be kidding me," he groaned after a few moments. "He's already out of the country, he chartered a private plane, and he's headed to Montenegro." Hardison looked up at Nate expectantly, waiting for further instructions.<p>

"Something has him spooked. He still has the upper hand on us, there's a third," Nate spoke, though more to himself than Hardison really. "Go through his financials again," Nate commanded, standing up, coffee cup in hand, and Hardison had to wonder if there was something stronger than coffee in the cup.

"Okay, but what am I looking for?" Hardison looked up at Nate, eyebrow raised. He worked magic with his computers, but first of course, he had to know what he was supposed to be doing.

"Anything out of place, anything strange," Nate downed the rest of the drink in his mug, whatever it was, and walked out of the cafeteria. Hardison just shook his head, popped another gummy frog into his mouth and set to work.

* * *

><p>"Abigail, I could really use your help with something," Sophie spoke into her cellphone, or rather a disposable cell phone, one that Hardison didn't have the number to.<p>

"Sure what do you need, I owe you one," the woman on the other line responded, and Sophie could practically hear the woman's smile over the phone.

"How quickly can you get here?" Sophie asked. A devious grin spread across her face.

"Depends on where 'here' is, dear," Abigail laughed, and Sophie knew she was already booking a flight.

"We're in Buffalo, Buffalo New York," Sophie responded quickly.

"Who's we? And what exactly am I going to be doing, Soph?" Abigail asked, clacking away at a keyboard as she booked her flight into the Buffalo area.

"My team, Abby, and don't worry, nothing dangerous, I'll explain when you get here, I can meet you at the airport if you want." She offered, glancing at her watch. "Where are you, anyway?"

"Prague, my flight is booked for three hours from now, dear, I'll be there as soon as I can," Abigail replied, glad that she never bothered to unpack from her flight there.

"See you then, call me when you land, this number, not my usual one," Sophie responded, "thanks so much."

"Of course, you know you can count on me."

"I know."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This is a little on the short side, and a teeny bit rushed because I wanted to give you guys something for Valentines Day! I really appreciate all of the reviews. I want to clarify something, because I slipped up in Chapter 2 (I've since fixed it.) The team is currently based in Buffalo, NY. They've been there for a while, and all have permanent residences. You'll find out why later. And fear not. Abby is a plot device, and while she'll play a small but relatively significant part in the plot, she won't be involved in any romantic entanglements. I'm not really a fan of pairing canon and OC characters! Hope you guys don't hate her _too_ much.

* * *

><p>By the time Parker woke up again, the sun had long since sank below the horizon, and darkness had crept into the room. Still sprawled out over the uncomfortable chair, Eliot was not sleeping. Nearly there, but a little to alert to actually pass into unconsciousness. Parker began to stir, and he woke up immediately, sitting up in the chair at the ready, an instinct that he hadn't quite gotten over, even in their years together where he no longer had to constantly worry about his own safety.<p>

Her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze came to rest on Eliot, a small smile spread across her face.

"Hey," he smiled in response, leaning towards her, ignoring the screaming in his back, old injuries acting up.

"Alex?" she questioned, trying to focus her eyes and separate between the two, because as far as Parker was concerned, while they looked identical, Alexander and Eliot were not the same person. "You didn't leave." She sounded surprised, and Eliot couldn't help but frown.

"I said I would, didn't I?" he replied, somewhat bothered that she seemed to be doubting him.

"People don't usually stay with me," she offered up as an explanation, and her matter of fact tone startled him, despite the fact that it wasn't too unusual for Parker.

"Maddie," he replied sternly, hoping she would realize that Eliot was talking to Parker, and not their aliases, because he knew she didn't quite grasp the concept, "have I ever lied to you?" he had to ask, almost offended that she hadn't believed him when he agreed to stay. But at the same time, he honestly had to wonder about all the horrible people she had encountered in her life. Had her foster parents honestly left her alone in a hospital?

"No," she frowned, she hadn't meant to make Eliot angry, and she glanced at the rings on her finger, "no you haven't lied. And you have to stay because we're married," she forced a smile at him. "Where are Hardison and Sophie and Nate?" she looked around the room, though she still hadn't sat up, her body was aching.

Eliot's brows furrowed, Parker really wasn't suitable for grifting, "they headed back to the hotel," he replied, perched on the edge of his chair and he picked up Bunny, who had fallen to the floor. He tucked the stuffed animal into Parker's side, and her arm curled around the ratty creature.

"Can you take me home?" she asked meekly, petting Bunny's ear, and Eliot was beyond shocked at how scared she sounded. Parker was scared of horses and people, and even when confronted with the two, he hadn't heard her sound so utterly powerless.

"Darlin', I already told you that they want to keep you here a few days. You broke ribs and they want to make sure that they don't shift and cause more damage," He hated that he had to say no, that he couldn't give her what she wanted.

"Please? If I promise not to move at all once I get there?" she pleaded with him, trying to bargain like a child, and not for the first time, Eliot was reminded of how child-like Parker could be, not that it was entirely a bad thing, he just forgot how innocent she could be.

"If I could, I would, Mad," Eliot felt guilty even as he uttered the words, "but if there's anything else I can do to help, let me know, what ever it is." He smiled weakly making a note to bother the doctor about when she'd be able to leave.

"No its fine," she sighed resignedly and to Eliot, that was probably worse than begging, or even crying. She picked up the museum book in her good hand, "I can keep myself occupied for a little while," she sounded distant, and he couldn't help but wonder if she was mad at him.

"Alright, Darlin', I'm going to grab something to eat, I'll be back in an hour or so, you can call me if you need me earlier than that, okay?" He replied, standing up from the chair with a few uncomfortable pops from his stiff joints.

"I don't need you," was Parker's somewhat bitter reply, and that was a whole other can of worms, and he wasn't about to get into it now.

"Okay, well if you want me," he forced cheerfulness as best he could, fighting his rising anger as he walked out the door.

"I don't want you," she muttered, but he was already out of ear shot.

* * *

><p>"Nate, this is not good, this is so, so not good," Hardison looked up from his computer set up for the first time since he had started nearly two hours ago.<p>

Nate was sitting at the table in the hotel suit, tiny empty bottles of alcohol in front of him.

"Like the opposite of good, as in like really really bad," Hardison continued, no real end in sight, and Nate had to cut him off.

"Hardison," his voice was stern, and slightly annoyed, "what's bad?"

"There's a transfer here, a lump sum of ten million dollars, Nate, its from the Maldives." Hardison's worried gaze met Nate's cool stare. "You know that can only mean one thing, right?"

"Oh course," though the look on his face worried Hardison even more than the transfer itself. They were way out of their league, and they knew it. "Its Rawlings," Nate replied before walking out of the room.

"Really man?" Hardison called after him, "you gotta do that even when I'm the only one here?"

* * *

><p>Eliot nearly had a heart attack when his cell phone started to ring; if Parker was calling, it had to be an emergency. He didn't recognize the number though. "Hello?" his gruff greeting was hardly friendly.<p>

"Mr. Kline?" a female voice questioned, and he panicked again. If they were using that alias, if they thought he was Alex, then the call had to do with Parker.

"Yes?" he replied, attempting to sound more friendly and concerned than ready to bust heads open.

"Mr. Kline, is your wife with you? This is her doctor, Dr. Tadros."

Eliot could feel his eye twitching, "You lost her," it wasn't a question, it was an accusation, he was swearing internally, knowing that she had pulled one of her classic vanishing acts. He should have known better than to leave her alone. "Wasn't anybody watching her?" he growled into the phone, "you know what, never mind, I'll find her." He hung up the phone before the woman could reply and speed dialed Hardison.

"What's up Man?" He sounded a little anxious, but Eliot couldn't even make a note of it.

"Can you tell me where Parker is? She escaped," he asked, trying not to sound panicked as his mind went reeling through all of the worst possible scenarios.

"Yeah sure, after the Archie incident she agreed to let me put a GPS tracker in her tooth, but man we've got other issues. Oh here, she's still in the hospital, tenth floor, right wing. But Eliot I was going through financials-" Eliot snapped his phone shut, unconcerned with what ever Hardison's problem was, his main goal was to locate Parker before she bled to death in some closet, or fell out a window this time to her death, or got mistaken for a mental patient and locked up in the psych ward.

It took him only five minutes to locate her, in a heap on the ground in an empty room, coincidentally one of the few rooms with window access to the lower roof section.

"Maddie," he rushed to her side and she groaned audibly, "what did you do?"

She tried to roll over, and Eliot growled when he spotted the pooling blood on the ground, smeared across her hospital gown, and it said something that he was far too concerned for her safety than to notice the expanse of bare skin where the gown met in the back. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he snapped as he pressed the call button next to the empty bed. "Don't move," he could see her collar bone jutting out of her pale skin, and he had no idea what sort of other injuries she had caused herself.

"Can't stay here," her breath was shallow and ragged, and Eliot wondered if she had punctured a lung.

The nurses showed up only moments later, followed by Dr. Tadros. Once again he was abandoned as they took her to radiology, no doubt to check for internal damage, and then he was sure they had taken her into surgery, though no one bothered to keep him informed.

This was his fault, he scowled, mentally beating himself up. Maybe he could have reasoned that what Jacobs had done wasn't his fault, but this? This was entirely and absolutely his fault. She had asked to leave and he had denied her and left. They all knew Parker, but he perhaps understood her flightiness best. They both knew how to cut losses. He should have known she would make a run for it, it was classic Parker, through and through.

He settled back down into his chair in the waiting room, which he had claimed as his own during the first wait. It was minutes later when he remembered that the ought to call the rest of the team. Hardison and Nate returned within the hour, but they had been unable to get a hold of Sophie. But honestly, they were all too distracted to put too much effort into finding her. They all knew the grifter could take care of herself.

* * *

><p>"Abby!" Sophie called, rushing forward to hug the woman she had spotted getting off the plane.<p>

"Soph, good to see you!" the woman was tall, leggy, though her fashion sense was drastically different than Sophie's. The grifter took in the flannel shirt, skinny jeans and cowboy boots, and the natural Australian accent that had been earlier came through. A devious grin spread across Sophie's face, she had definitely called the right person.

"Sophie, you have to tell me more about this... job? You called it?" Abigail demanded as she picked up her bags, following Sophie towards the exit, arms linked.

"Its not what you're used to, but I think you can have some fun with it. And we might need your help with something more serious, if you don't mind getting involved," she had gotten the information about Rawlings, and couldn't help but wonder if it was some sort of cosmic intervention that she had called Abby of all people, because they would definitely be able to use her.

"Okay, but you've got to tell me more on the way," she grinned, climbing into the taxi cab after the grifter.

* * *

><p>"I swear to god, Nate, she's bat-shit. I think we need to figure out a way to get her out of here before she kills herself." Eliot growled in the waiting room, and neither the Mastermind nor the Hacker could ignore the tension in his face and the vein throbbing in his neck.<p>

"Alex," Nate responded, which Hardison was a bit grateful for, since Eliot was scaring him a little. "We're going to do all we can for Maddie, she's a part of the team, and you know that. But there's a bigger issue we need to worry about at this moment," Nate explained.

"What do you mean a bigger issue? Didn't you hear what I said?" Eliot growled again. "This is her life we're talking about, and she just let her collar bone stab through her skin to get out of here, so clearly I'm not exaggerating."

"I get that, but this concerns all of our lives," Nate really couldn't help but be cryptic sometimes, and Hardison cut in.

"Alex, Jacobs was working for Rawlings" That shut Eliot up, and he sank back into his seat, a nearly dumbstruck look on his face.

"Like, Maldives Rawlings?" Eliot had to ask even though he already knew the answer. A worried look fleeted across his face, not the angry sort of worry either, but real fear.

"Yeah, that one," Hardison rolled his eyes, a defense mechanism to hide his own fear.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me," Eliot groaned, the situation didn't seem like it could get any worse, "what's the plan?" he turned to Nate, because this time, he really had no idea how to handle it. "What are we going to do?"

Nate just furrowed his brow. "Working on it. Sophie's bringing in a friend of hers, an asset, especially considering Pa-Maddie's out of commission on this one. But I'm still working out the details."

"Hope you're not waiting on us, Nathan," Abigail interrupted, her Australian accent as clear as day as she and Sophie walked into the waiting room. "You know I hate to be an inconvenience." She grinned at the man she had clearly met before.

"Abby," he raised an eyebrow at her, recalling the numerous times when she had been an inconvenience in the past, back when he still worked with the insurance agency. "Never a bother, of course."

"Everyone, this is Abigail," Sophie introduced the woman, a small smirk on her face as she eyed Eliot.

"You can call me Abby," she corrected with a charming smile.

Hardison and Eliot shared a glance, neither thrilled about adding another variable into the already difficult situation.

"Hardison, and Alex," Sophie introduced, as the men seemed rather opposed to divulging their names. "I've already explained some of the situation to her."

"Great," Hardison's super enthusiastic response. "Yay." Deadpan.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: So, so sorry I've taken so long in getting this chapter up, I've had it written in my notebook for days. Its also kind of short. I'm not sure I'm happy with how the story's going right now though, so let me know what you think!

* * *

><p>Introductions had been made, and Hardison and Nate had briefed the other three about what they knew about Rawling, and explained to Abby the situation they were in with Jacobs. They had dispersed slightly after that, Nate and Sophie arguing in whispers in the corner, Hardison clacking away at his laptop. Abigail dropped into the seat next to Eliot, turning to him and staring intently with big green eyes.<p>

"We worked together a few times," she announced matter of factly, crossing one slender leg over the other.

Eliot blinked and blinked again. "No we haven't, I'd remember you."

Abby let out a laugh, not a girlish giggle, but cute all the same. "Not me and you, Hun, me and Par-" she caught herself, "me and Maddie." She tossed her hair over one shoulder.

"And you felt the need to tell me this why?" He growled back at her. She was attractive, and definitely his type, but his patients had worn thin over his worry for Parker.

"We were doing this one job, right? At the Smithsonian, she didn't want to work with me, but our employer insisted and there was a huge, and I mean huge payout." Eliot just growled under his breath, wondering why the woman seemed hell bent on irritating the shit out of him. "We got the item requested no problem, got out no problem either, but when we went to deliver it to the employer, they tried to cheat us and take it by force. We're both fast, but we weren't quite fast enough and I ended up breaking my arm before taking the two guys out."

Abby held out her arm, displaying a set of two scars, and Eliot could tell that is was where bone had protruded through skin, having quite a few himself.

"P-Maddie caught a fist to the ribs, cracked two and punctured a lung, I guess she's predisposed for that, and I brought her to the hospital. They let me go as soon as my arm was set and cast, but told me they wanted to keep Maddie for the night. I had no loyalty to her, we were just business associates so I left. I swear though I saw her leaping off the Empire State building two days later when I was in New York." She raised an eyebrow at Eliot, "Girl is not durable at all, but she sure heals quickly."

"What exactly do you do?" Eliot was suspicious. It wasn't like Parker to work with anyone, for any amount of money. Well, before the Leverage team.

Abby let out a laugh again, "oh dear, a little of everything I suppose. I started out just fencing, but I seem to keep getting roped into doing other things." Eliot just blinked at her. He had no idea what to say to that, and just returned to sulking in his chair.

"I've heard through the rumor mill that you liberated Croatia?" Abby sat back in the chair, studying the hitter's face intently.

"Well that wasn't phrased as a question, but yeah I did." His voice was gruff, clearly not interested in this line of questioning.

"Did you hear about the incident in Bosnia around the same time?" she asked with a small grin, and Eliot's eyes widened slightly.

"Yeah, that was you?" he sounded a little impressed, and Abby resisted the urge to glance over at Sophie with a triumphant grin.

"Yep, all me."

* * *

><p>"What did you do?" Nate whispered sharply at Sophie in the corner. Se reached out a hand, laying it casually on his forearm.<p>

"Nothing, Nate, she can help us and you know it," she defended quickly.

"That's not what I was talking about, Sophie. I thought you were trying to encourage something between Eliot and Parker, not drive Eliot towards some random friend of yours." Nate bit back, still trying to keep their volume at a hushed whisper.

"I'm not trying to get Eliot to 'hook up' with Abby," Sophie cried in a whisper, dramatic air quotes to reinforce her point. "You're not the only one with plans you know. And I don't see why you care, you're the one who didn't want to get involved."

"Yes but-"

"You're just angry," Sophie cut him off.

"Angry at what?" he replied indignantly.

"Angry because you're being confronted by yet another thief who escaped you," Sophie smirked, knowing full well she had hit the nail on the head.

"She's not one of the good guys." Nate huffed.

* * *

><p>Parker's surgery lasted over five hours, and by the time Dr. Tadros finally came out to talk to Eliot, he was ringing his hands together, itching to get a hold of a punching bag. Or an opponent, or something he wouldn't feel bad about blowing off some steam on.<p>

He could barely hear what the doctor was trying to explain to him, punctured lung, a laceration on her kidney, another broken rib, the words were reeling around in his head but he couldn't make sense of them, he just wanted to see her.

When they walked in she looked ten times worses than before, and Eliot felt like he had been run over by a tractor trailer. He didn't know what to say to her, or the team and so he just took his seat again. He wasn't going to leave her this time around.

The team hung around for a while, but the doctor warned them that it might take her longer to wake from the anesthesia. Nate and Hardison were too concerned with Rawling, and left at some point- Eliot wasn't sure when. Sophie had finally given up after a few hours, she was exhausted, even in his distracted state Eliot could tell, but Abigail stuck around.

"Why are you still here?" it was nearly four in the morning and Eliot seemed to have only just noticed her presence, curled up in a chair near the window.

"Jet lag, can't sleep anyway." She shrugged; she had kicked off her boots now under the chair, and her hair she had pulled back into a braid. Eliot watched her with mild suspicion. Hardison and Nate may have trusted her because of Sophie, but Eliot wasn't going to be won over so easily. No matter how attractive she was.

Both of their attention immediately shifted to the bed as Parker stirred.

"Maddie?" Eliot called out softly, letting her know that he was there before her eyes had time to adjust.

"Alex?" he could barely hear her, her voice just a raspy whisper, she turned her head towards him. "Abby?" A frown spread across her face, and it was only then that Eliot noticed the Australian woman had moved from her window seat and was now hovering next to the chair he was in, a soft hand resting on his shoulder.

He frowned too, and couldn't recall the last time he hadn't noticed a person's proximity, much less physical contact.

"Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?" Abigail asked gently.

"Like I was trampled by a herd of tigers carrying elephants," she croaked out, and let out a tiny gasp as she attempted to move. Neither Eliot nor Abby were willing to ask.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Eliot growled, pushing his worry for her behind his anger at the stunt she had pulled.

"Why is Abby here? Abby why are you here? Oh gosh," she wheezed slightly, "you figured out how I did it last time. You're," she coughed harshly and Eliot and Abby both winced at the sound, "going to keep me from leaving." She was panicking and Eliot reached out his hand, taking hers gently.

"Maddie, calm down. You're barely out of surgery and in no position to talk about leaving. I will talk to your doctor about getting in home care, but darlin' please promise me you won't pull a stunt like that again," was his reply and if Parker didn't know better she would have thought he sounded desperate. Or at least what Sophie had told her desperate sounded like.

"How bad did I do?" She asked meekly. She didn't like when Eliot was mad at her. It was one thing when he was annoyed, but angry was different. Angry was scared.

"Maddie, you broke your collar bone in another place, broke another rib and did internal damage. You're lucky I found you," he growled out.

"You worried everyone, Maddie." Abby added and Parker's gaze was fixated on Abby's hand.

"Why are you you here?" Parker repeated, her voice coming back to her slightly.

"Sweetie, Sophie told me what happened, and I'm going to be helping you guys with this problem."

"Sophie?" The way Parker snarled the name startled Eliot, like she was accusing the woman of treachery. "What problem?"

"You were thrown off a building, remember?" Parker just frowned in response.

"Abigail," Eliot stood up, "can I talk to you?" He didn't wait for an answer, before guiding her out the door, a hand on her lower back.

Parker shifted up in bed, ignoring the screaming in her stitches at her side, and the tug at her collar bone. She glanced at the ring on her finger and then resigned herself to glaring at Eliot and Abby as they stood just outside the door.

He returned to the room a few moments later, this time alone. He furrowed his brow at her glare, unsure as to what exactly had her bothered, it was Parker which meant it really could have been anything.

"Go away," she finally spoke, her glare more narrowed and angry. He fleetingly wondered how that man had ever thought that she had dead eyes. Deadly maybe, but not dead.

"What so you can try to escape again?" he snarled not really intending to be so harsh, but he wasn't too great at controlling his temper when it came to the blond haired thief.

"No, I'll stay, you leave." She retorted, trying with no avail to turn away from him.

"Yeah, because based on prior experience I have every reason to believe you," he snapped back sarcastically. He was utterly confused. Only hours ago she had practically begged him not to leave, and now she wouldn't even look at him.

"Fine, don't talk to me." She pouted.

"Fine," his snarled response and he threw himself down in the chair by the window.

* * *

><p>"Did she really?" Sophie's brows knitted together as she sat on her hotel bed with Abby next to her. Both had half empty wine glasses in hand.<p>

"Yep, she did alright," Abigail let out a small laugh, "I'm really glad that looks can't kill 'cause I'm sure I'd be a murder victim by now."

Sophie took a sip of the red wine, stretching out her legs. She loved her Jimmy Choos but they killed her calves. "That's interesting," She stared at the glass, swirling its contents around.

Abigail just rolled her eyes, "I think you've been spending too much time on this team. You're starting to remind me of Nathan."

Sophie glared at her friend, mostly playful.

"No no, now's the point where you say something annoying and cryptic and leave," Abby laughed, and Sophie couldn't help but join in.

"He's really not that bad when he's sober," Sophie added when they had both settled down, and she set her wine glass on the night stand.

"And how's that going?" Abby asked doubtfully.

"Much better than it used to be," Sophie sighed loudly, "he doesn't think we notice anymore. I'm not sure if Parker or Hardison do, but Eliot does."

"And you do," Abby added.

"Yeah."


	6. Chapter 6

It was probably a good thing that Eliot required so little sleep, because he managed to keep himself up past the point when Parker's breathing evened out. He felt guilty for snapping at her when the hospital was clearly already stressing her out, but his mind kept flashing back to her being thrown over the building, and the image of her lying on the floor in the empty room, and his stomach clenched uncomfortably.

"Mr. Kline," he recognized the voice of Dr. Tadros, and it took all of Eliot's self-control not to flip a table or something on the woman. "Just here to check on Maddie." The woman held up Parker's chart defensively.

"Doctor," he started, standing up from the chair and thrusting his thumbs into his pockets. "I understand that she's in rough shape and that it would be best for her to stay here," he glanced over at the sleeping woman. "But I know my wife, and she's going to do everything in her power to get out of here, no matter how much damage she causes." Eliot returned his gaze to the doctor, who just waited patiently for him to continue.

"Is there any way we can bring her home in the morning with some kind of in home care? Money isn't a problem and I have experience caring for this type of thing," Eliot stared at the woman expectantly. It took a few moments before she sighed.

"We don't usually like to send people home early, but considering keeping Maddie here might," Eliot coughed, "_would_ be more hazardous to her health, I think we can arrange something." The doctor nodded and Eliot finally breathed a sigh of relief. He remained silent as Dr. Tadros checked Parker over, noting things in her chart. And when he and the thief were alone again he returned to the chair next to the bed, twisting the wedding band on his finger.

Eliot woke up with a crick in his neck and his back aching just as the sun started to peek through the window. He stretched, glancing at his watch, noting that he had slept for four hours; unusual in its own right, he never managed to get much sleep in hospitals when he was a patient, much less when he was the one waiting on an injured friend or family member. He glanced around the room a bit and stretched before his line of vision came to rest on Parker, and only then did he notice the blond thief blinking back at him.

He held their locked gaze for a few moments before he finally spoke, "Good morning, darlin'," he greeted softly. "How are you feeling?"

"Can we leave?" she sniffed softly, clutching Bunny close to her side with her good arm. He stood up, pressing the call button next to her bed and nodded.

"I talked to your doctor, we just need to get your dressing changed and we'll get you back to our new apartment." Eliot could help but grin a little at the smile that spread across her face. "Under one condition," he added before she could get too excited.

"Aw what," she wrinkled her nose, reminding Eliot of a bunny, and he had to hold back the smirk.

You're going to listen to me. Letting you leave the hospital goes against everybody's better judgment so you are not," he emphasized, "not going to push yourself. "

Parker frowned but nodded in agreement. "Fine, just get me out of here."

Eliot raised an eyebrow with a sly little grin, "and," Parker scowled, "you're eating everythin' I cook. All of the vegetables." Parker looked so offended that Eliot almost expected her to call off the deal and tough it out in the hospital where she could thrive on nothing but Jell-O.

"One vegetable a day," they were bargaining apparently.

"If you eat it all," Eliot added as a stipulation.

"Deal," she wasn't thrilled, but Eliot couldn't bring himself to really feel guilty considering he really was acting in her best interest. So he just nodded and left the room to find her doctor.

It took nearly an hour for the nurse to change the dressings that covered a large majority of her body. They set her arm and leg in metal braces, unwilling to cast the limbs until the swelling went down.

With strict instructions, the promise of a nurse's visit in six hours, a few prescriptions and a multitude of extra bandages, Eliot finally wheeled Parker out of the hospital. And true to her word, Parker didn't even voice a complaint when Eliot insisted on lifting her from the chair to the car seat.

He wasn't entirely sure if it was the agreement they had made or if the pain she had inflicted on herself had finally caught up with her. His gut told him it was the second, making the whole ordeal slightly less satisfying.

They filled the prescriptions on the way home, and Parker was fighting consciousness as Eliot carried her from the car to the elevator. Hardison had given him keys to the new apartment before he left for the night, and if Parker hadn't been so tired, she would have been impressed at how he managed to unlock and open the door with very little shifting of the girl in his arms.

The apartment was nothing like either of them had expected; a sprawling living room right through the door. Eliot could see a state of the art kitchen across the breakfast bar. He carried her to the back hallway, poking his head into each room. One was clearly a guest room, with generic furniture and decorations, a home gym also, to Eliot's delight. A bathroom, huge claw foot tub and a separate shower stall, all the amenities he had at his own home. Finally there was the master bedroom, far larger than he would have expected from the outside of the building.

The walls were grey, white accents and a dark ceiling. Each side of the room had a chifforobe and a closet, and from what he could see, there was a large master bath off to the side. Eliot was positive that the large flat screen TV hanging over the heavy stone fireplace had been Hardison's personal touch. Though in the coming days, Parker would certainly enjoy it.

He deposited said thief on the king sized bed, maneuvering her under the covers in one go, trying to make it as painless as possible, though a groan of pain still escaped her lips. Eliot frowned, trying to figure out what he could do to fix it, to make her feel better.

"I'm going to bring the stuff up from the car, alright?" Parker nodded gently, her eyes falling closed. The lack of response unnerved the hitter, who was used to being unable to shut up the blond. "Then I'm going to run to my place and get some of my things, and I'll grab some clothes for you, alright?" She nodded again, not bothering to open her eyes. Eliot, at least, was fairly certain she wasn't about to do anything damaging.

"This isn't like our normal jobs," Nate warned, standing in front of Hardison's screen set up, talking to the hacker, Sophie and Abby. "He knows us, knows everything about us. He knows our go to's, Chaos, Archie, Quin, Tara and even Maggie." The Master mind explained. Rawling was notorious to say the least, and in their profession it was almost impossible to not have run into him.

"But he doesn't know you," Nate nodded at Abby. She shook her head.

"He doesn't know my face at least," she corrected, "We've had dealings, but never in person."

Nobody was willing to ask what those dealings had been. Professional courtesy from Nate and Hardison, but Sophie knew she didn't really want to know.

"Either way, we still might have success with you running grift. Since Sophie, Hardison and I are already known, well, we'll just have to play ourselves." Abby and Sophie shared a glance.

"What exactly are we doing though, Nate, you keep avoiding the question?" Sophie frowned disapprovingly at him.

Nate's lips curled up into a smirk, and Sophie had to wonder how exactly he had ever fancied himself one of the good guys.

"Let's go steal a country." Cue exit.

Hardison shot a panicked glance at the girls, unsure of what exactly stealing a country entailed.

Eliot only grabbed the essentials from his home, clothes he stuffed into his duffel, his tooth brush and shampoo, his guitar, a few CDs and a few photographs. He shoved everything in his truck and sped over to Parker's hangar, the route already memorized precisely in his head. He collected her clothing there, though he left behind a few of the skin tight dresses Sophie had forced into Parker's wardrobe over the years. He didn't take anything else either, didn't feel the need considering he had already visited once earlier.

He was fairly confident that she'd still be asleep when he got back, but he wasted no time in returning to his new residence. The glint of metal on his finger was slightly unnerving as he grasped at the steering wheel in his truck. There had been a point in his life in which he imagined a ring there, but he had rationalized a long time ago that marriage wasn't for him. He couldn't figure out though, why the ring looked so right on his finger.

He didn't have much time to ponder though, and parked his truck in front of the building. It only took him one trip to get everything, the duffels, and the guitar and all up the stairs, choosing to ignore the elevator, the physical exertion calmed him slightly. He didn't bother unpacking, and just dropped everything unceremoniously on the couch in the living room. More concerned for the escape artist, he poked his head into the master bedroom and was slightly surprised to find her still sleeping there peacefully. Some part of him expected her to run, though they were no longer in a hospital. He was even more surprised to find a large fluffy dog asleep in the bed, curled up next to Parker.

"Eliot," he nearly jumped a mile when he finally noticed Abby sitting in an arm chair in the window. "Hardison told me that you might have forgotten," she nodded to the leash sitting on the night stand. "So I took him out earlier, I didn't realize you two were coming home so soon." Eliot nodded, trying to relax his grip on the door frame. He had feared the worse, expected it. Jacobs, even Rawling himself ready to take out Parker, ready to finish what they had already started.

"Thank ya," he had entirely forgotten that their pretend family was three, not two, but he hadn't forgotten the manners his mother had taught him.

"He's very obedient, I'm sure Parker will love him to pieces," Abby stood up, moving to leave. "I just figured I'd keep an eye on her. You know, until you got back. Better to be safe than to be sorry," her smile was self-deprecating but charming, and her accent rolled off her tongue thicker with each word. Eliot caught her wrist before she could pass him in the door way.

"Seriously, I mean it. I know I haven't been too friendly, but thank you." He met her eyes in earnest, and she simply smiled and nodded before she left. Eliot didn't even notice the tension leave his frame as the front door clicked closed behind her.

"Hey Fitz," Eliot whistled softly, and the fluffy white monster perked his head up. "Want some lunch? Me an' you?" By his calculations, the medication would have Parker knocked out for at least a few more hours, and he was already itching to get his hands in the kitchen. There would be plenty of time to cook, but he really did just want to explore all of the gadgets and ingredients that the room had been stocked with.

He whistled again, and Fitzgerald jumped off of the bed, following Eliot into the kitchen. The beginnings of a beautiful symbiotic relationship, he was sure. He glanced down at the mutt as he pulled cold cuts out of the stainless steel refrigerator. Well maybe more than that, the dog was awfully cute; Eliot tossed him a piece of turkey.


	7. Chapter 7

Abby hated dresses, but Sophie did seem to adore dressing people up and as such, her role in the con involved a slinky dress and stilettos. She was more than certain that Nate had manipulated her role as some sort of twisted gift for his "not really" girlfriend. That or he was exacting revenge. Or both. He was a mastermind after all, two birds with one stone was kind of his specialty.

The European woman had gotten some kind of sick pleasure out of decking the Australian out in jewels, making up her face, inflicting wardrobe preferences on her. But Abby did have to hand it to him, the elaborate plan was quite complex, and she wasn't certain it would work, but it was impressive none the less.

Plus getting to grift as a princess did have its appeal, even if it meant that she had to wear the skin tight dress, and teeter precariously on tooth picks that really did nothing except for serve to help objectify women. And for some reason, her friend loved them.

Abby wrapped the faux fur shawl around her arms, Sophie had tried for real fur, but Abby would have none of it, and she strutted up the steps to an office building. Her accent was undistinguishable to the average person, only that it sounded foreign, exotic.

"Excuse me ma'am," the gangly boy at the front desk stopped her, "do you have an appointment?" Abby sent him a reproachful look.

"Yes. Emeliana Tupou, I have an appointment with Brendan Jacobs." She turned up her nose at him.

"I'm sorry ma'am; you're not on his list for today." The boy apologized, a slightly terrified look on his face.

"You don't know who I am, do you," her voice was suddenly almost sympathetic, caring. He shook his head and she leaned in close, the boy's eyes drifting lower.

"I'm a princess," she whispered into his ear.

"Of where?" he gulped softly.

"An island in the Pacific," she replied simply, "May I go see Mr. Jacobs? My father has business with him." Only then did the boy notice the large man hanging just off her right, a friend of Abby's evening out a favor.

"O-of course, ma'am," the boy stuttered. Abby just patted him on the shoulder and moved on.

Br

Eliot had located the bookshelf quickly after lunch, and with delightfully full stomachs, he and Fitzgerald had settled on the couch with a book. He was in his second novel, having devoured the first alternating between flipping pages and scratching Fitzgerald behind the ears when he heard Parker call for him.

He tucked a bookmark between the pages and set the novel on the coffee table. Fitzgerald followed him into the master bedroom, jumping up onto the bed. She squealed loudly as the fluffy monster licked her face, and Eliot couldn't help but laugh before commanding the dog down.

"I forgot that we have a dog," she giggled, her voice still husky from sleep.

"I did too, Abby brought him by." Eliot sat on the corner of the bed, looking at her critically, and Parker couldn't help but feel a little exposed. She had seen firsthand what he could tell by just a look. "How are you feeling?"

She smiled at him, though he could tell she was in pain. "I'm okay, a little hungry," she shifted up into a sitting position, leaning against the wooden headboard.

"Don't stress your stitches," he warned, watching carefully for any sign of her having pulled them loose. When satisfied that she hadn't done any damage, he stood up. "What would you like to eat? A sandwich or something lighter?" he asked, pushing his hair out of his eyes, and Parker caught a glint of the platinum band with a small smile.

"Can I have cereal on the side?" she looked up at him with wide, sad eyes, and when Fitzgerald mirrored the look, Eliot was certain that he was being conspired against, but he still couldn't say no.

"Fine, but you can't pick the lettuce off the sandwich," he warned, refusing to admit defeat entirely.

She nodded in agreement happily and he left the room.

"You are just the cutest puppy ever," she informed Fitzgerald matter of factly, petting his head with her good arm. He barked in reply.

"You're just like Eliot," she smiled as she educated the dog, "you think you're scary but you're not. You are just too cute." She whispered the last part. Eliot wasn't scary but he wouldn't be happy if he heard her call him cute.

"And you have soft fur. Eliot's hair is really soft too, but I'm not allowed to pet it because he thinks that it's weird, so I only can when he's asleep."

She was still talking to the dog when Eliot walked into the room carrying a sandwich and a disappointingly small bowl of cereal. She scarfed down the cereal and struggled through the first half of the sandwich. Eliot took pity on her when he saw her eying the second half.

"You don't have to finish it all if you're full," he relented and she handed the plate to him with a sigh of relief.

"Thank god, I didn't think there was any way I was going to finish that!" Parker exclaimed dramatically. "Will you watch a movie with me?" She called after him as he brought the dishes into the kitchen, and he knew he should have expected that, what with the way she had been glancing up at the television while eating.

"Sure," he agreed, and she patted the bed next to her, insisting that he join her. The king sized bed was plenty large enough, and he settled comfortably on the bed as far from her as he could get. "What do you want to watch?" Eliot asked, fumbling with the remote before he finally pulled up Netflix.

"Duck Soup," she replied promptly, and Eliot looked over at her in surprise.

"Marx Brothers?" He wasn't sure what he had expected her to say, but that wasn't it at all. Maybe a Disney or Pixar movie, and he had to remind himself that she wasn't all childlike innocence. Odd considering he occasionally had to remind himself of just the opposite.

"Yes." She informed him, "It's my favorite." He just selected it with a shrug.

He wasn't really surprised when she tugged on his sleeve. Parker wasn't fond of physical contact, but he had always been the exception and she always seemed to sit with her arm and leg flush with his. As far as she was concerned, if she couldn't shift closer to him, it was Eliot's obligation to do so instead. He rolled his eyes anyway and pushed Fitzgerald down to the foot of the bed before placing himself directly next to her, with as little disturbance as possible.

She settled into his side immediately, resting her head on his shoulder, and Eliot let out a low growl, feeling a bit like a pillow when Fitzgerald returned to the head of the bed, taking residence on Eliot's other side, head in his lap.

Parker's giggles died down and her breathing evened out after a little while, and Eliot knew that she had fallen asleep again, though he didn't check for fear of disturbing her, and relaxed a but, drifting off himself.

They were still like that when Sophie, Nate and Hardison showed up. Eliot perked up immediately at the sound of the front door opening, but he remained put. He could tell from the voices who it was, and he didn't see any reason to wake Parker up.

"Eliot?" Sophie called, and Fitzgerald darted out to greet them. The hitter chucked at the shriek from the other room, certain that the enthusiastic dog had landed a kiss on the woman before Eliot called out.

"Back here," he tried to keep his voice from waking Parker, but she didn't even stir, and the rest of the team appeared in the door. Sophie raised an eyebrow suggestively and Eliot was a little too quick to explain.

"She fell asleep while watching a movie," he nodded to the paused screen on the TV.

Hardison, Eliot could practically feel the quietly brewing jealousy inside the man, and the ache in his back informed the Hitter that there really wasn't anything to be jealous of, aside from being just the appropriate height for her to rest her head on his shoulder.

"How is she doing?" Nate asked with concern. He'd never tell her, but Parker was like the daughter he'd never had, and like the child he had lost.

"Not sure exactly, she's still a little doped up on pain killers," Eliot explained, and the blond haired girl finally started to wake. Sophie, mother hen, was at her side immediately.

"Parker," she smiled at the younger woman.

"Sophie," Parker smiled in return through her yawn, eyes still half closed. "Sophie," she repeated, her voice much less… happy.

"What is it?" Sophie was confused, though not entirely, she did have her suspicions.

"You called Abby," Parker's voice was accusing, and the men were all surprised at her tone, Eliot less so than the others. Sophie nodded; Parker had confirmed what she had suspected.

"We talked about this, Parker; Abby is your friend, like Peggy is your friend."

Parker glared but didn't respond, and Eliot was certain there was more to it than that but kept his mouth shut.

"Is Eliot taking good care of you?" Nate asked with an eyebrow raised. He was still not entirely convinced that the hitter possessed any sort of caring instincts. Parker nodded, trying to stretch without causing excess pain. Eliot scooted away from her at the opportunity, not about to let her lay back down on him.

Nate followed Eliot into the kitchen, leaving the grifter and the hacker to entertain Parker. A good thing, Eliot reasoned. Out of the limelight of the hospital, Hardison could finally fully express his concern, and Eliot wasn't quite sure why that thought made his stomach clench.

"I know we didn't really give you much choice about caring for her. I really hope you don't mind," Nate spoke, though his attention was following the dog, ensuring that the mutt didn't get too close.

It wasn't lost on Eliot, who stifled laughter at the idea that their mastermind was afraid of dogs. "Nah, man, I volunteered when I said she was my wife," he corrected, pulling a glass out of the cabinet and filling it with water.

"Yeah, but you had no idea how much it would actually entail," Nate reminded the hitter, and Eliot couldn't help but feel like the man was trying to play mind games with him.

"It's okay, really Nate," he replied more firmly. "It's the least I can do for her. I owe her this much."

Nate raised an eyebrow but didn't push the subject any further. Eliot just collected the medication that Parker was scheduled to take and wandered back into the bedroom, water in hand.

Br

"Excuse me, Miss, but I'm a bit busy right now." Jacobs waved her off as Abby opened the door. She waited for him to look up before replying.

"Actually, you're busy with me. We have an appointment." She walked into the office, a subtle yet affective sway in her hips before she sat down in the chair across from him, one long slender leg crossed over the other.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are." She could feel his eyes raking over her body and had to resist the sudden violent urge to vomit.

"I'm Emeliana Tupou," she replied, "Crowned princess of Tonga." The man's eyes widened at that, though she could tell that he doubted her to some extent. "My father, King George Tupou the fifth has a proposition for the man you work for."

BR

The gang had all shuffled out when the nurse had arrived. Eliot took it as an opportunity to unpack all of their things after apologizing to the nurse Marie about the state of the house. They hadn't had a chance to unpack after returning from their visit to his mother's.

"You have a lovely home," Marie commended as she peeled the bandage off of Parker's abdomen, revealing the nasty looking staples and what Parker knew was going to be a gnarly scar. Scars had never bothered her before, so long as they weren't on her face. She didn't like being easily distinguishable. But she could only imagine how ugly it would look all healed up, awkward puckered knotted flesh on her otherwise smooth pale skin.

"Thank you," Parker managed, "Alex was behind most of it though." Easier to pin the blame on Eliot.

"He's quite the looker isn't he," Marie commented with a smile, flushing the stitches with a saline solution. "How did you two meet?"

Parker tensed for a moment. "He was working for a delivery company that I use for orders for the bakery. Used to deliver our dry ingredients every Tuesday," she finally lied, elaborating slightly on the cover, and she was sure that Sophie would be proud. If she cared what Sophie thought right now, which she didn't? Obviously.

"Ah," Marie placed a fresh bandage over the wound. "A diamond in the rough?" It was fairly obvious that 'Alex' was no longer a delivery man, what with the nice apartment and the lack of worry about the medical bills though they both lacked health insurance.

"You really have no idea," Parker muttered.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Remember that Abby is just a plot tool, not a love interest! Fair warning. Also, thank you so much for the reviews! It means a lot to me that you guys all take the time to let me know what you think.

* * *

><p>"Sophie," Nate called from his bedroom in the hotel, folding down the comforter as he stood in his pajamas.<p>

"What?" she replied from the bathroom, brushing her teeth apparently, Nate noted with a chuckle at the mumbled reply. "What?" she asked again, emerging from the bath in just a night shirt, hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. They both settled into the bed before Nate finally gave her an answer.

"I know you're all gung-ho about this thing with Parker and Eliot," Sophie raised an eyebrow at his slang choices, but waited for him to continue. "But what about Hardison in all this?" he pulled off his reading glasses, setting them on the nightstand and Sophie patted his knee.

"Hardison and Parker aren't right for each other. Hardison wants to make her feel normal, wants her to be normal. Eliot embraces the crazy," she explained simply.

Nate nodded, "that's not what I'm debating, Soph. Eliot's a man of principles, and he's not going to get into anything with Parker without Hardison's blessing because he knows how Hardison feels. And Hardison isn't going to give up on Parker that easily. She's been unintentionally stringing him along; he thinks he has a chance if he waits for her long enough."

Sophie thought for a moment, "I'll figure something out," she shrugged, turning her back to Nate as she lay down.

He raised an eyebrow, "If you tell me the plan I can help you…" he offered. Sophie just let out a laugh.

"No thanks; go to sleep." She turned off the light and pulled the comforter over her shoulder. Nate frowned but threw an arm over his "not really" girlfriend and settled down to sleep.

* * *

><p>"Eliot!" Parker called from the master bedroom for the tenth time in as many minutes. He growled, setting down the wooden spoon he had been using to stir the soup he was attempting to make, though the girl seemed hell bent on getting him to burn everything.<p>

"Yes Parker?" he asked for the tenth time.

She was perched on the bed right where he left her not even a minute ago, and even Fitzgerald hadn't shifted positions at all. "I'm bored," she informed him, wiggling her unbroken leg under the covers.

"Yes, you told me that, Parker. Several times." Eliot nodded, trying to keep a smile on his face and not let her nagging and whining get under his skin.

"Eliot, I want to get up, please?" She requested, holding out her unbroken arm.

"Parker," he sighed, "you haven't even been out of surgery for twenty four hours." He reminded her. She paused for a moment before replying.

"I have to pee."

Eliot's eyes widened slightly, the issue hadn't presented itself before, what with Marie around for a few hours, though in retrospect he realized he should have given it some thought.

In a rare moment of understanding, Parker added, "just help me get up, I can manage after that." She grinned at him though, knowingly. She really had no shame when it came to those sorts of things, growing up in foster care; she never really had any privacy. Sophie had been teaching her, and though she didn't understand why, she knew that undressing in front of Eliot made him uncomfortable. And she didn't want to make him uncomfortable when he was actually being nice to her.

"Alright, leave the door unlocked," he replied hesitantly, his morals conflicting with his concern for her safety.

"Yeah sure. Help," she instructed and he helped her up and into the master bath. He hovered just outside the closed door, not convinced that the woman wouldn't do more damage to herself.

"You're breathing too loud!" She called through the door and he took a few steps back with a growl. He could hear her humming through the door, and it was nearly four minutes of pacing later when he finally heard the water running and a call after a few moments.

"Eliot, come get me, the floor is spinning," her voice was wavering and Eliot threw the door open, at her side in two steps, and he scooped her up before she could fall over.

"Whoa there, see this is why I didn't want you to get up," he growled, depositing her gently back into the bed, and Fitzy finally rolled over, awake now and he barked softly.

Parker giggled, petting his stomach. "Aren't you burning stuff?" she reminded him, and Eliot was thankful that he had settled on soup because when he went to check it, the pot was only at a rolling boil, quite close to spilling over.

He let out a heavy sigh, head in his hands after lowering the head. He cursed inwardly, wishing that maybe Marie could have moved in or something because the ordeal had only served to do one thing, and that was to remind, or perhaps inform, Eliot that there were going to be even more awkward situations to come. Changing- it wouldn't bother her, he was sure of that but he personally was an entirely different story. And then there was the fact that she was going to have to shower at some point. Fully clothed he could pretend Parker wasn't an attractive woman. But…

He wouldn't even let his mind go there. Eliot Spencer had gained complete control of his mind years ago, and some insane blond with a death wish would not be his undoing.

* * *

><p>"You're up late," Abby murmured as she walked into the common area of the suite they were all residing in. Sophie and Nate has disappeared a little after eleven, and neither of the other occupants had any inclination to find them. It was nearly two in the morning and Abby poured herself another cup of tea before sinking into the couch opposite Hardison.<p>

"So are you," the hacker replied, looking up from his laptop after a few clicks. "Whatcha up to?" he asked with a sigh, figuring that the girl would want to talk, considering that was what Sophie always wanted when she sat down and started trying to strike up a conversation.

"Can't really sleep," Abby shrugged, tucking her legs underneath her, taking a large sip of her tea. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, just watching Firefly," Hardison replied casually. Nobody bothered to ask what he was doing usually, and when he told them it was usually followed by laughter or nerd jokes. He got it, he did, and he knew that they were just teasing him, but that didn't stop him from remembering middle school, high school, when it hadn't been good natured. And so he didn't really expect a nice response, much less the one he got.

"Oh neat, what episode?" Abby moved to sit next to him, peering over his arm at the screen while clutching her tea cup tightly.

"You watch Firefly?" Hardison glanced sideways at the woman, clearly not convinced, she was a friend of Sophie's after all, and that usually meant grifter.

"Are you kidding me? Zoe is my spirit animal," Abby laughed, taking a closer look at the screen. "This show was what inspired me to take up Mandarin.

Hardison did a double take, "you speak Chinese? Woman you all sorts of crazy," he was teasing mostly, but hit the play button. He certainly wasn't opposed to someone willing to watch one of his favorite shows with him. And she had already expressed an interest.

"How do you feel about Dr. Who?" he peered down at her, and it didn't take a grifter to tell that he was sizing her up.

"Allons-y," she just grinned.

Hardison pulled her head to his chest with an overly dramatic cry, not really worried about waking Nate or Sophie. He pet her hair, "oh girl," he sniffled loudly, "where have you been all my life."

* * *

><p>"Eliot," Parker called yet again from the master bedroom, and the hitter tossed down the sponge he was using to clean up from dinner, a late dinner of course, but he didn't need much sleep anyway.<p>

"What, Park?" Eliot called, leaning against the counter, trying to keep the agitation out of his voice.

"Come here!" She shouted, and Fitz scampered out into the kitchen.

"Did Timmy fall down a well, Lassie?' Eliot joked with the dog before making his way towards the back bedroom, the fluffy beast following closely at his heels.

"I don't think I'm the crazy one," Parker announced when Eliot entered the room, an eyebrow raised and he could tell that she had heard his comment.

"Nope," Eliot shook his head, and his tone was light and teasing despite the fact that he mostly believed it. "You are definitely the crazy one. Or need I remind you that you broke several bones attempting to escape from the hospital, which you were put into for breaking bones? Anyway, what did you want?" He asked, drying his hands off with a dish towel.

"You cooked dinner," she replied simply.

Eliot was getting better at Parker-speak, but he still had no real idea what the girl was trying to get at. "Yes, I know Parker, I was there," he raised a questioning brow.

"Did you make dessert?" she asked, and he could see the excitement in her wide eyes, and chastised himself for not knowing, because he really should have been able to guess that.

"I'm not sure. Can't seem to remember," he teased, though they both knew he had. The smell of cookies baking had been torturing Parker for hours, unable to even swipe one like she normally would.

"Eliot," she whined, and he just chucked, leaving the room and returning with a plate of butterscotch oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. He thought it was a ridiculous combination, and far too sweet for his liking, but they were the blonde's favorite, and she nearly squealed in delight when she set her sights on the dessert.

"Don't eat them all," he instructed, setting the plate on her lap and turning to leave.

"Stay with me?" she requested. "I'm bored.

Eliot glanced at Fitzy standing in the door, "I'm going to take Fitz for a walk, okay? He needs to go out before bed, and then we can play the museum game if you want. Alright?" Eliot relented. He certainly couldn't wait for Parker to heal up enough to be able to move around some. They'd hardly made it through the day and she was already stir-crazy.

"Sure fine, see you later Fitzy!" she called as Eliot clipped on the leash and they walked out the front door, locking it securely behind them.

He chuckled softly when he realized how much Parker reminded him of a horse that had broken its leg and her fear and aversion to the beasts only served to make the analogy more amusing. There was some truth to it though, the analogy, he considered as he and Fitzgerald set off down the road in the dark.

Parker couldn't help but remind him of the wild mustang filly he had found as a ten year old boy on his family's ranch. The horse he had named Willa, and she too had been injured. He grinned, nothing that he had to use the same sort of approach with both of them. Approach slowly, don't spook, no sudden movements. The filly they had set free after nursing her back to health, at Eliot's insistence. He had felt horribly guilty about trying to break a wild animal, a beautiful creature. But this? Eliot wasn't sure if he'd be able to set her free.

* * *

><p>Eliot was only gone for twenty minutes, but to Parker it felt like he had been gone for hours. Or days. Or something- a really long time. And when she finally heard the door open, she was practically vibrating with pent up energy. Fitzgerald dashed right back into the bedroom as soon as Eliot let him off the leash, and Parker earned another slobbery kiss, the white mutt still licking her face when Eliot walked in. She was giggling but Eliot commanded him down and the fluffy monster immediately dropped into a laying position, head on her lap looking up at Eliot innocently.<p>

"Can we play the museum game now?" She requested, and Eliot knew she would have been bouncing up and down if she weren't in pain.

"I suppose so," he relented, off handedly trying to figure out how to even out her sleep schedule.

"Sit," She commanded, pointing at the bed again. It was a pretty simple game, he gave her a museum, and she detailed what she'd steal, how long it would take and how she would do it. Not exactly the pinnacle of entertainment, but it kept Parker busy at least.

He climbed into the bed, crossing his legs underneath him, scratching Fitzy as he thought for a moment. "New York Museum of Natural History," he finally decided.

She wrinkled her nose, definitely not a favorite museum of hers. "Three minutes, fifty two seconds, tops," she decided after a moment. Eliot just waited, knowing she'd continue on her own. "Industrial access vents on the rear side of the building, directly connected to the bent over the Egyptian exhibit, motion detectors are all ground based. Nylon rope with a winch anchored outside of the building. The lapis lazuli case is directly under the vent, alarm only sounds when the glass top is removed, so cut a hole in the top," Parker shrugged, "easy in, easy out, simple as a Master lock padlock."

Eliot nodded with a grin. He knew people underestimated the thief quite a bit. Hardison always fancied himself a genius and they all knew Nate thought he was, but Eliot was fairly certain that Parker was smarter than both of them.

"Okay, okay, a more fun one. Smithsonian, from storage, nothing on display."

"Well," she didn't need to take any time with this one, and Eliot wasn't surprised that it was something she already had a contingency plan for.

* * *

><p>Fifteen museums, ten paintings, twelve diamonds, and several other items later, Parker could barely keep her eyes open. "I think it's time for you to get some sleep," he smiled, watching her nod off and then back into the world of the living a few times.<p>

"Will you stay?" she asked so softly that Eliot almost forgot again that she wasn't an injured little six year old.

"Sure," he cursed internally, he really needed to learn how to tell her no. But she smiled softly and nestled into the blankets and he really didn't mind.

He threw on an old tee shirt and a pair of gym shorts before he crawled into the bed, making sure to keep a wide berth between the two of them. Fitzgerald filled in the gap and Parker as asleep before he turned off the light.


	9. Chapter 9

"How long do you think they've been there?" Sophie asked, standing in the doorway in the suite with Nate, looking into the living area. Abby and Hardison were both asleep on the couch, curled at other ends.

The master mind just shrugged his shoulders and walked into the miniature kitchen to retrieve some coffee. He couldn't be bothered with getting involved in everybody else's relationships, he decided, not when his was so complicated.

With a steaming mug in hand, he walked over to the back side of the couch that they were on and shouted a hearty, "Wake up!" Sophie gave him a disapproving look as the two younger teammates bolted upright, sleep still in their eyes.

"Wha? Wha? Where's the fire?" Hardison asked, looking around wildly, his vision still blurry from sleep.

"We fell asleep on the couch," the insult as unspoken but clear, and she punched him in the arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to get across her dislike of the fact that he was shouting in her ear. Hardison nursed his arm dramatically. "Rude." He pursed his lips together, "Ya like a tiny little team all wrapped up in one."

Three sets of stares.

"What?" he cried incredulously. "We know she can grift, she's a total nerd and she punches people. Plus she's gotta' be pretty damn smart if she can do all those things an' she's been working alone." He shrugged.

Abby grinned, and punched him again.

"Alright, Hardison. Move on. We've got the next step to do."

* * *

><p>At some point during the night Fitzgerald had left his post as the separation between the two people in the bed, and Parker had grabbed hold of Eliot's shirt sleeve, and it was still balled in her fist when he woke up. He slept longer than he thought he would, but it was still barely dawn when his eyes slowly opened, facing her.<p>

He'd never seen her look so relaxed, used to the usual tension that came with being a wanted criminal with a traumatic childhood, whether or not you were entirely sane. He attempted to remove her fist from his shirt, but she wouldn't let go, and she just tugged him closer. Eliot wasn't really surprised that he couldn't manage to extract his shirt from her vice like grip, but he wondered if the strength came from hanging off buildings or from desperately clutching prized possessions in her sleep, afraid that they would be taken away. He covered her balled fist with his own hand and let himself sink back into sleep.

When he awoke again, Parker was poking his side, and there were rays of light peering through the window. Fitzgerald was concerning absent and another sharp jab to his ribs jarred him from his sleepy haze.  
>"What, Parker?" he growled, his voice even more gravely than usual.<p>

"I'm hungry," she replied, "and I need to shower or I'll smell gross," she informed him, and Eliot wasn't sure if he appreciated her lack of shame or not.

"Alrighty, what do you want for breakfast?" He sat up, brushing his hair back, "We can figure out the shower later."

"What's there to figure out?" she frowned. "Help me into the tub and help me wash my hair." Eliot didn't know why he was surprised that she was genuinely confused. It was just like Parker to not consider modesty at all.

"What do you want to eat, Parker," he repeated, brushing her off, and he climbed out of bed. "Pancakes?" It was what she usually requested of him, and he knew just how she liked them, with lots of chocolate chips and just lightly gooey in the middle. Disgusting, but entirely Parker.

"Can you make waffles instead?" She requested, snuggling down into the pillow further. Eliot couldn't remember the last time she had looked quite so adorable.

"I'll check and see if we have a waffle iron," he replied, pulling on an old sweatshirt. "What do you want if there isn't one?" He thought back to the poking around he'd done, but couldn't seem to recall if there was a waffle maker or not.

"Then pancakes," she yawned, and he couldn't help but glare a little, because she had woken him up, not the other way around. But he nodded, and padded out into the kitchen. To his amusement, Fitz was sprawled out on his back, all four paws in the air on the couch. The waffle iron was located, and while it was heating up he took Fitz outside, still stirring the bowl of batter, barefoot.

He took a tray into Parker, and she looked more than a little dismayed when she saw only one waffle, though it was accompanied by scrambled eggs and sliced strawberries.

"I don't like eggs," she scowled, and Eliot just raised an eyebrow, almost daring her to not eat them.

"Complete breakfast, you need protein," Eliot replied simply, "you don't have to eat it all, just eat some." Apparently that was going to be their motto for the duration of the arrangement, or at least until she could sneak extra bowls of cereal and other goodies.

He decided not to comment when she sampled the eggs cautiously, and then scarfed the rest down, and he watched carefully to make sure she drank the entire glass of milk, fully aware that she'd try to give it to Fitz if he gave her the opportunity. She only liked milk in cereal. He wolfed down his own breakfast and fed Fitzgerald, and only then did he return to the bedroom to confront the issue of the dreaded shower.

* * *

><p>They were all expecting the call, they'd planned for it, but it still startled Abby when her phone started to ring.<p>

"Mālō ē lelei," she answered in character, she didn't speak Tongan, but the greeting was simple enough.

"Am I speaking to Emeliana Tupou?" She recognized the voice immediately, and could only sincerely hope that he wouldn't recognize hers- though she reminded herself, her dealings with him had always been with her Indian accent, definitely one of her more convincing ones.

"You are, may I ask who is calling?" she replied sweetly, her accent deliberately thicker than it was when she'd talked to Jacobs.

"Wonderful. Rawling speaking. I've heard through a little bird that your father has a proposition for me."

She motioned towards the phone, trying to get Nate and Hardison's attention. "He does indeed, is your line secure? My father is quite wary of doing business over the phone."

"As am I, would you prefer to meet in person?" He questioned, and Abby grinned at Sophie from across the room, everything was falling into place.

"Provided my body guard can come with me. I'm sure you can understand. Father does worry about his only daughter." Hardison was already booking her flight.

"Naturally." She could practically hear his slimy smile over the phone. "Here in the Maldives, I'll have a driver pick you and your guard up at the airport."

"Lovely," she hung up. He would figure out when her flight was due to arrive anyway, no need to divulge the information. "Hardison, my flight?" she questioned. He just looked up with wide eyes.

"Oh, right. Abby, your flight is tomorrow morning at eight. Nate you're departing in three hours," he replied with a broad grin, "Sophie and I are headed to Montenegro in eight hours, we'll have time to kill there so bring your swim suit, baby." He laughed, but they knew he wasn't really joking, The computer whiz had no doubt booked a beach side hotel for the two.

"Oh, your passport is ready," he turned to Abby, "it's already set with the appropriate visas from Tonga, you and your friend as well. You two can pick them up on the way to the airport. I've got flights home staggered back as well so there's no reason to suspect anything."

Nate nodded, "let's go steal a government," he announced before he returned to his bedroom to pack.

"He knows the plan isn't actually to steal a government, right?" Hardison asked Sophie, a worried look on his face. With Nate, you could never really be sure.

She just shrugged her shoulders. "I'm going to visit Parker and Eliot, fill them in and make sure they haven't killed each other before we leave," the grifter decided aloud.

"I'll go with you," the girls shared a look and Hardison just shook his head. He knew he didn't really want to know.

* * *

><p>"Eliot," Parker whined loudly, "will you please stop being a baby." She threw her head back into the pillows in frustration.<p>

He growled in response, "I'm not being a baby, 's not right. My momma would slap me into next Tuesday if she heard that I'd done something like that," he retorted, brushing hair out of his eyes with more force than necessary.

"Yeah, and I'm sure she'd be super proud of your incident with 'Nurse Gail'," Parker rolled her eyes dramatically, and if he hadn't been so angry he would have been proud of her appropriate use of air quotes. "It's not like you've never seen a naked body before."

He clenched his fists together, trying to keep himself from punching something, or shouting. He usually had a firm grasp on his temper, but there was something about the girl that made him lose it. "It's different, Parker," he was closed to shouting anyway. Not for the first time he wished that the girl-woman would have just a little bit of discression.

"How?" she demanded, practically shouting herself, "It's all the same stuff, how could it possibly be different?"

Eliot didn't really have an answer for that, and he didn't let himself dive too far into the issue, because honestly he was a little scared of the reason. For all intents and purposes, she was right. That was the problem with arguing with Parker. If you took social convention out of the equation, she was always right. "It just is," he huffed finally.

"Well what do you want to do? I can't just not shower until I get better, that's gross," he could have sworn that her eye was actually twitching at him.

Only then did the light bulb go off, and he wrenched open the dresser drawer, digging around for a moment before he pulled out a bikini, tossing it to her. She shrugged, "Fine, but there's no way I can put the top on myself, I can only move one arm."

He could have sworn that her tone was almost smug, but he relented anyway. It would just be a moment; he could avoid looking at least. "Okay." He sighed and helped her up. Eliot turned around, and winced when he noticed her labored breathing, and the gasp that escaped her mouth. He was sure it was from trying to bed over, and when she gave him the okay to turn around, she was sitting on the bed, a pained expression on her face. Eliot couldn't help but feel guilty as his mouth went dry.

He could control his anger mostly, and his rage. He could overcome his fight or flight responses, but he was still a man, and there were some instincts that were too primordial for him to control, and though one leg was covered with bandages and the splint, the expanse of pale skin on her thighs tapped into that primeval man, and it took a few moments for Eliot to compose himself with steady even breaths.

When her breath evened out as well, for entirely different reasons, he helped her stand again, and gently helped her broken arm out of the sling, careful to disturb her broken collar bone as little as possible. He had trouble swallowing when he helped her out of the loose tee-shirt, and he focused on the back of her neck when he knotted the ties, trying with great difficulty to keep his eyes from wandering.

In retrospect, Hardison was a much better man for the job, Eliot reasoned, since the hacker's gut reaction was always to look away, to preserve her modesty or something, whereas Eliot always had to force himself.

He supposed it was almost lucky that the majority of her back was covered in bandages, but it worried him. He had no real grasp on the full extent of her injuries. Pulling off bandages and wrapping up splints, he started to get a better idea, and he hadn't realized how the makeshift harness she had been wearing had cut into her back. With a pang of guilt he could only imagine how uncomfortable she must be whenever he carried her around.

She didn't say a word though and that worried him more than a little. He tried to focus on each part individually, and nearly lost his composure when he peeled the bandage off her collar bone, dangerously close to the swell of her breast, and he had taken that as an opportunity to retrieve more pain medication.

His stomach clenched painfully as he helped her into the tub, and he pulled a brush through her tangled blond locks before washing her hair. But the hot water seemed to sooth some of her aches, and her eyes fluttered closed as he worked shampoo into her hair.

The claw foot tub was just the right shape, and the removable showerhead made washing the soap out of her hair quite easy. Eliot wondered if Hardison had done that intentionally, but then he doubted that the Hacker would have been okay with the scene in front of him, and he could be fairly certain that Hardison had never considered it.

"You okay?" he questioned, trying to keep the pressurized water from hitting anywhere too sore.

"Your hands feel nice," she responded with a smile, and his jaw clenched, and he once again wished that she had just a shred of a filter, because she clearly had no idea what her words were doing to him.

Neither of them heard the knock at the door, or Sophie and Abby let themselves in. And they didn't hear Fitzy's greeting despite the fact that they had left the bathroom door open, so Eliot was just as startled as Parker when the two women poked into the bathroom, identical smirks on their faces.

"Well well, what do we have here?" Sophie raised an eyebrow. Eliot just growled.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: I am so, so sorry this took so long. I won't bore you with excuses, I've just been busy lately. On the upside, the next chapter is already written, I just have to type it up, AND this chapter is quite a bit longer than my usual. Some stuff is about to go down, so I hope you like it! Also, please let me know if you all would prefer to see more Eliot/Parker. I'm having trouble finding the right balance between shippy goodness and an actual plot, so feedback would be lovely. Hope you all like it

* * *

><p>He wasn't concerned, Nate told himself as he boarded the plane. He'd- they'd stolen a country, a government before. But Moreau? He was a bad guy, with huge scams going, deep and dirty. But he couldn't hold a candle to Rawling, not really.<p>

The man wasn't untouchable because he was being harbored in a tiny country with no extradition treaty. Rawling was untouchable because it was impossible to link anything back to him. He was protected by a dozen men set up to take the fall before he'd go down.

Rawling was out of their league, so much so that Nate was almost afraid to send Abby to the Maldives. But he'd hurt one of their own. Rawling had hurt Parker, Jacobs more directly, but Rawling had been behind it. Parker was the closest thing Nate had to child, after Sam had died. And just like Blackpool, Rawling would go down. Somehow they'd make it happen.

* * *

><p>"Hi, Sophie," Parker smiled, turning her head to the door. The combination of hot water and Eliot's hands on her scalp had her in a better mood then she'd been in for days. Not even a hint of a blush on her face, she waved at the grifter and Abby.<p>

Eliot though, understood social convention a little better, and Sophie was pleasantly surprised at how red his face was. "If I'm living with her, she's not going to smell," Eliot replied gruffly, unwilling to meet Sophie's eye. Parker just smiled and nodded in agreement. All of Sophie's coaching still hadn't made Parker able to recognize when she probably should have been embarrassed about something, but Eliot also couldn't help but note just how refreshing her honesty was. You really couldn't play games with Parker unless you straight up told her the rules. It was somewhat in conflict with the way she treated people, almost like they were toys or playthings, specifically put there for her own amusement.

"Uh hu," Sophie and Abby's mirrored expressions were clear, disbelief, though Eliot was sure Parker didn't notice.

"You here for a reason? Cause we're kinda in the middle..."of something, was the implied end of the sentence, but Eliot refused to give Sophie more ammunition, and he held up his soapy hands for clarification.

"Yeah, it's about the plan for Rawling. We've got everything going, and wanted to fill you in before we leave," Abby explained, finally inserting herself into the conversation.

"Rawling?" Parker's eyes widened and Eliot couldn't see her face but he could practically feel her tense from a few inches away, and he cursed inwardly, wondering how he could have managed to forget that Parker had never been filled in. So consumed by his own guilt he hadn't had time to give much thought to the man who was directly responsible. Sure Eliot would wring the man's neck, given the opportunity, but he hadn't gotten to the planning phase of his revenge yet.

"Didn't Eliot?" Sophie glanced from Parker to the hitter and back, confusion obvious on her face as she gestured arbitrarily.

"Eliot?" Parker turned to the hitter, and he could hear something in her voice that he hadn't heard from her before.

"I-I, it slipped my mind, to be honest," he grimaced even as he spoke, knowing that it certainly wasn't the best thing to say, even if it was the god honest truth. Rawling wasn't the kind of person you could just shove to the back of your mind, and this situation, it wasn't something you forgot.

"What though?" She faced him, and Eliot was acutely aware of how much pain the position would cause, stretching bruised skin, shifting her broken collar bone, tugging at stitches, more guilt. "What about Rawling? What didn't you tell me?"

"Jacobs, he wasn't the mastermind, he was working for Rawling." Eliot didn't even give it a moment to sink in. "Nate's got a plan though, or something," he didn't like the look on her face.

"Eliot, can we?" Sophie nodded to the door, and he knew just what she meant. He looked back at Parker, and with a frown at her stony glare, he stood up, wiping soapy hands on his pants and walked out. All three girls jumped as the door slammed shut with more force than he had actually intended.

"Parker," Sophie's voice was gentle, hesitant, Eliot may not have recognized the tone in her voice, but Sophie knew it all too well, had been on the receiving end before, betrayal. "It's been a rough and hectic couple of days," she reminded the thief, "We've all been really worried about you, especially Eliot. He's barely left your side. Rawling was the last thing on his mind, I'm sure he's been replaying the image of you falling over the side of the building a million times, because he thinks it's his fault."

"It's not his fault though," Parker frowned, "he was on the opposite side of the roof."

Sophie nodded, "He couldn't do anything to stop it, and he feels like that's his fault. But the rest of us are dealing with Rawling. Abby's headed off to the Maldives, posing as a princess, Hardison and I are leaving for Montenegro and Nate's already on a plane going abroad. I'd try to explain the plan to you, but you know Nate, I don't even understand it all." Sophie comforted, sitting on the edge of the tub.

"I'm sure Eliot didn't want to worry you with Rawling," Abby added, "He wouldn't want anything to impede your recovery, Hun," Sophie nodded in agreement.

Parker just scowled. "I still have soap in my hair," Non-confrontational as always when it came to important stuff. For someone who loved explosions, Parker tended to take an extremely indirect route whenever it came to people. Or she blew them up. (Once, that was once.) Abby chuckled softly and moved to finish what the hitter had started.

"It's only been a few days," Sophie reminded her, mildly surprised at the girl's extreme response, but then again, Parker hardly ever reacted in expected ways.

"How do you forget about someone like Rawling?" Parker bit back sharply. "He's dangerous, we struggled with Moreau, how could we possibly take down Rawling?" The hitch in her voice surprised Sophie and Abby more than anything, and Sophie had to wonder what time of exchange Parker had actually had with the man.

"Nate's working on it. We haven't failed yet, no need to worry this early in the game," Abby added, "Eliot hasn't been part of the con, we've been a little too busy to keep him informed."

"And he really has been worried about you, Parker, quite a lot. You should have heard how upset he was during your surgery." Parker couldn't hear the insinuation in Sophie's voice. She just huffed like a petulant child, and that was a response that the grifter had come to expect.

* * *

><p>Eliot couldn't quite recall the sequence of events between slamming the bathroom door shut and where he had ended up, but somehow he'd decided to take Fitzgerald for a walk and had finally stopped in a small city park. He dropped onto a bench, and was only mildly surprised when Fitzy leaped up next to him, and proceeded to try and lick the hitter's face.<p>

He'd been drowning in his internal monologue for a while, and he wasn't quite sure when it had turned into a straight up pity party, but whatever the case, his stomach churned with guilt. It was unreasonable to think that Parker had never encountered Rawling before, and nobody had any idea how personal the situation had been. For all that Eliot knew, Parker and Rawling could have been lovers, though the thought made his stomach churn uncomfortably. They'd each met or worked for the man at one point, he was involved in just about everything within the criminal world to some extent.

He should have told her. He knew that, of course. Parker had trusted him, had no reason to suspect that he was keeping something important from her. Eliot knew well that Parker's trust was just as, if not harder to earn than his own was. Fitzgerald brushed his slobbery tongue over Eliot's ear, earning a flinch from the hitter, and he laughed quietly, scratching the pup behind his ears. It was too late to fret about it at this point, he reasoned. The only thing he could do was return with his tail between his legs and hope that he's forgive him.

Eliot stood up, pushing Fitzgerald gently off the bench, and caught the nylon leash before the beastie could get too far away. He wasn't sure just how far he was from home- the apartment, he corrected. And he wasn't sure either how long Sophie and Abby had intended on staying. Even if Parker was angry with him, he didn't want her alone. Or actually, he amended, especially if Parker was angry, he didn't want her alone. Angry Parker was a destructive Parker. And yeah, she was mostly crippled in her movements, but he knew better than to underestimate her, and he picked up his pace a little, suddenly worried about the wellbeing of his guitar.

She was certainly a wild child, or rather, wild woman. He couldn't quite get a grasp of her in his head. He called her crazy, but he appreciated it, she wasn't predictable, he couldn't guess her next move, but that was a good thing, he decided. She was certainly one of a kind.

* * *

><p>When Eliot got back to the apartment, not home he had to remind himself again, he found Parker clean and dry and clothed and tucked back into bed. And he was thankful, for the sake of his embarrassment, but he ignored the voice in the back of his mind, mocking him and how bodily he had reacted to the blond thief. Fitzgerald had slipped through the female blockade and into the bedroom, but Eliot wasn't so lucky, and he was corralled into the living room by Sophie and Co.<p>

"You didn't even tell her why she was pitched off of a roof." Eliot recognized Sophie's tone, the same one she used when talking to Nate about alcohol. Not good for him at all.

"Honestly, it didn't cross my mind. 'Member? I'm the muscle," a combination of sarcasm and self-deprecation, and Sophie just rolled her eyes.

"We talked about this, didn't we? Stop with the pity party. We have to leave though; we've got flights to catch. Abby's still on track as the princess heading to the Maldives, and Hardison and I are going to Montenegro. Nate's got his part in Malta, he's at the airport now," Sophie explained, and Eliot nodded mutely.

"We wanted to fill you two in before we're out of the country. My alias can't communicate with you back here while I'm abroad." Abby added quickly.

"Go fix things," and there was Sophie's mothering tone, her favorite, it seemed, for talking to the hitter, hacker and thief.

"My flight doesn't leave until the morning," Abby informed him as the girls turned to go. "If you need anything before then, you have my number." She grinned and glanced down the hallway to Parker's room, and the open door.

"What? No I don't," he fished for his phone, usually buried in his pocket. Abby held it out to him, and the hitter snatched the electronic device back with an indignant look, but he ignored her loud laugh as the girls left the apartment.

With a deep sigh, Eliot collected himself and with something akin to fear, he entered the master bedroom. The scowl on her face was searing, despite the fluffy mongrel on her lap. And Eliot winced away from the look. "Hey, Darlin'," he greeted hesitantly. No reply. The scowl only deepened on her face. "I'm sorry," he didn't bother trying to explain, and Eliot Spencer certainly wasn't about to make excuses.

"For what?" Parker sniffed, and Eliot had to wonder about that special angry place, and how firmly she was stuck in it.

"For not telling you about Rawling," Eliot replied, resisting the urge to explain why he hadn't told her. She paused for a moment before her face softened and she nodded. He was confused, really confused. He'd expected an explosion, or ninja throwing stars or something equally unexpected from Parker, a bit of a conundrum, but that was what she was.

"Can I have ice cream?" she blinked up at him, and the hitter was beginning to worry that she'd found an actual weakness of his, because he couldn't seem to say no to her, to those wide innocent eyes.

"We've only got rocky road," Eliot warned her, wanting to make sure that she wouldn't be unsatisfied when he brought it in. She'd eaten all of the mint chip ice cream, her personal favorite, and now apparently was moving on to his favorite.

"That's fine," She nodded, pressing her face into Fitzgerald's fur.

It only took a few minutes before Eliot returned with two bowls of ice cream and settled into his side of the bed before handing one to her. She dug in heartily, and he had to wonder how she could stay so thin when her concept of food groups seemed to mirror Buddy the Elf's.

"Slow down, you're going to get a stomach ache," he chuckled, taking a spoonful of ice cream himself. She set her spoon down in the bowl and turned towards Eliot.

"Rawling isn't his real name you know." She stated it quietly. He did a bit of a double take, unsure of where the declaration had come from, and unsure of where it was going and he just raised an eyebrow at her quizzically. He had no idea how she knew that to begin with, and had no idea why she was telling him.

"I didn't know that," he answered through another mouthful of ice cream.

"It's not," she nodded. "It's Anthony Parker."

Eliot's eyes just widened.

* * *

><p>Hardison was no grifter, and while he could hold his own on the cons, he was no master at reading people. Still he could tell as he and Sophie went through security, and waited for their flight to arrive, and boarded the plane that she wanted to say something to him.<p>

"Okay woman, spit it out." Hardison requested after they had settled into their comfy first class seats.

Sophie looked over at him indignantly but caved in seconds with a small sigh. "You and Parker." She breathed out, like she was finally letting go.

Hardison raised an eyebrow at the woman, "Me and Parker…?"

Sophie sighed again, more dramatically this time. "We all know you've been nursing a crush on her for years." No beating around the bush. For a grifter she could be particularly blunt. The hacker could feel his cheeks burning, "It's been five years." She laid a comforting hand on his forearm. "I'm worried about you; you've practically put your own life on hold for her, passing up real opportunities."

"Well," Hardison felt the need to defend himself, not that he was naturally defensive person; "Parker's just not comfortable with relationships, I don't want to…" he trailed off as Sophie shook her head.

"Hardison, I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, but if she felt that way, if she really did like you as more than a friend, family even, you and I both know that something would have happened by now. Parker's not comfortable with relationships, but she's used to instant gratification. She sees what she wants, and she takes it. Parker doesn't wait five years for something," her voice was gentle, consoling. She really wasn't trying to hurt Hardison, but it was a wake-up call that he needed, and it would be better to try and plant the seed now. It would hurt Hardison more in the long run if he returned from Montenegro and found that Parker and Eliot had worked things out. Though maybe that bit was just wishful thinking on Sophie's part. But she could practically see the hacker withdrawing, and she fell silent, buckling her seatbelt as the plane began to taxi for take-off.

* * *

><p>It was nearly dark when Abby stepped off the plane, she hadn't realized that Hardison had chartered a Gulf Stream for her to take to the island nation, but she and her friend Rick could certainly appreciate it. She walked down the steps in one of Sophie's skin tight dresses, uncomfortable Jimmy Choo's and a gorgeous ruby necklace that she had… acquired… a few years back. Rick followed closely on her heels, as intimidating as ever, but it was only a few steps until she was greeted by one of Rawling's men, and she had been ushered into a town car. She'd expected to be brought to a hotel, but the sprawling estate was much more promising, and the man of Rawling's, whose eyes trailed over her appreciatively, helped her settle into a spacious suite, wide open spaces and huge windows. If it wasn't such a serious situation, she'd have been thrilled at the luxurious accommodations.<p>

Rick was in the significantly smaller room next door, but didn't seem to mind much at all, and they both were served a late dinner in the open sitting area in Abby's room. She wasn't terribly surprised that she wasn't collected to meet with Rawling until early the next morning, but she was miffed all the same.

His office was practically regal, perched on a leather chair behind a heavy ornate wooden desk, and the man himself was older than Abby had expected, somewhere in his fifties. She smiled brightly, charmingly as she stepped into his office in another expensive outfit.

"Princess," he nodded, standing to greet her with a hand outstretched, and yeah, Abby could get used to it.

"Mr. Rawling," her accent was thick, "I thank you for your hospitality." A princess was supposed to understand etiquette after all.

"Of course, Princess-"

"Emeliana," she interjected with a friendly smile, and he nodded with a smile of his own.

"Emeliana," he repeated, "I do believe we have some business to discuss."

"I think you're right," Abby grinned.


	11. Chapter 11

"Wait, his last name is Parker?" Eliot frowned, Parker's name was hardly an issue, and never brought up. Not like Sophie's was. They all suspected that she just went by her last name and never bothered with her given name. It wasn't that uncommon of a surname, but given her reaction.

"He's my uncle," she nodded meekly.

"I didn't know you had family," Eliot sputtered out before he had a chance to think about what he'd just said, but Parker didn't see the potentially offensiveness of it anyway.

"My mom died when I was an infant, giving birth to my brother. My dad died when I was three, my brother was two; we were only ten months apart. But we lived with Uncle Tony- Rawling- for four years before social services placed me in foster care," he had never heard her speak so openly about her childhood, and he was stunned that she was trusting him, especially considering his mistake earlier. He was certain that she'd never mentioned any of this to the rest of the team. And he was hesitant after she finished speaking, unsure how to proceed. On one hand, he had a thousand and one questions, but on the other, he didn't want to push her too far.

"He-" Eliot stumbled over the best way to phrase his most pressing question, "why did child services get involved?" He hoped that she knew he didn't require an answer of her, that she didn't have to tell him if it made her uncomfortable, but then Parker was never really one to go along with something that made her uncomfortable in the first place.

"I think that they had suspicions when my brother-" she couldn't bring herself to say the word, "But then I broke my arm on the playground at school," she glanced at her arm, bandaged and Eliot noted the coincidence. "They gave me a physical at the hospital because I fell from the top of the jungle gym and uh," she shifted uncomfortably. "Afterwards they talked to him out in the hall; I don't know what they said because I never went back. They sent someone to collect my things and put me with a foster family."

Eliot's stomach churned with suppressed rage, and concern, and guilt and empathy and a whole bunch of other things that he couldn't quite pinpoint. He glanced down at his ice cream, melting into a soup in his bowl, and he was sure that Parker's looked something similar. An eye for an eye, he figured, she had opened up, shared with him despite how difficult he knew that was for her, and so he took a deep breath before speaking. He owed her that much.

"I grew up on a ranch," he admitted, and Parker resisted the urge to make a comment. They'd all deduced as much a long time ago. The southern influence was quite obvious on Eliot, and he wore it well. "I was home schooled until high school, so I never really made friends with anyone except the kids of some of the ranch hands, and I never spent any real amount of time off the ranch. I didn't mind as a kid, I liked horses and helping out, but the seclusion." Eliot had to steady his breathing. "Nobody saw bruises, or cigarette burns, and working with cows and horses gave the doctors no reason to question any broken bones. He got away with it, but I got big enough to fight back. I joined the military as soon as I could, after officer training, and I never really looked. Not really at least. Aimee kept me tied to the area, and I talk to my Momma on the phone sometimes, but my sis got out before I did, and he never hit women so I didn't have to worry much about them." Parker could see him relaxing, the tension leaving his muscles. It was something he hadn't even talked to Aimee about.

But Parker was different. A lot different. Somehow, Eliot knew that she'd never look at him differently after knowing. She had probably expected as much, what with their other similarities. He wouldn't get pity from her, because she understood.

"I guess every criminal needs a background to make him sympathetic," oddly insightful, for Parker, but Eliot was starting to catch on, and wasn't quite surprised.

"I prefer to think that every hero needs an origin story," Eliot smiled softly at her, and Parker decided she liked that smile. It wasn't his cocky smile, or a smirk but more like an almost shy country boy, and she was beginning to think that maybe he really was one on the inside.

"We are kind of like super heroes, aren't we," Parker grinned. "They don't always obey the law. And Batman proved that you don't have to be a mutant."

Eliot's eyes widened in mock surprise. "I didn't realize you actually grasped the concept of laws." She liked that they were comfortable enough to shift between serious and goofing off without any real awkwardness.

"Laws are only necessary in the absence of morality," she cited with a smirk, scooping some of the melting ice cream into her mouth with her free hand.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Darlin'," Eliot laughed and turned back to his own ice cream. He did a double take, staring into the empty bowl before turning to Parker. "You stole. My. Ice cream," he punctuated with a growl. A giggle was all he got in response as she scraped the last bit of ice cream out of the bottom of her own bowl. "How did you even?" he couldn't remember ever taking his hand off the bowl.

"You didn't give me enough," she informed him simply. "I don't see why you have to be so stingy with sweets if I eat all your stupid vegetables." She shrugged and set her empty bowl on his lap. Eliot growled again.

"That was like a quart of ice cream, Parker, half of a carton."

"I usually eat a whole carton," she huffed, but patted her stomach contentedly.

Eliot rolled his eyes, "alright, what did you want to do today, now that you've consumed your weight in sugar?" he asked, craning his neck to look at her.

Parker smiled and shrugged as best she could with a broken collar bone. "I don't know. Something. I'm bored." She thought for a moment, wishing she could drag Eliot off the side of a skyscraper, because she thought that sounded like fun, and right now Eliot was being nice and spending time with her. But he was only doing that because she couldn't jump off skyscrapers. "Can we go outside?"

He hesitated, it had only been a short while since the incident, barely two days since her second surgery and he didn't want to push it. The last thing either of them needed was Parker making her injuries worse, but at the same time, he completely understood. Even more than he was, Parker was constantly active. Whereas Eliot had quiet and relaxing pastimes like reading and cooking and making music, Parker's idea of a hobby was base jumping. That and he was fairly certain she had undiagnosed ADHD, but that couldn't be helped at this point.

"Fine, but just sitting, and you have to take your meds first," he relented finally, though still not entirely convinced it was a good idea. Parker just nodded with a huge grin on her face.

* * *

><p>The suite was huge, which Sophie could certainly appreciate, especially because she knew Hardison had booked it with her in mind. They definitely both shared a taste for extravagance. The common area was sprawling, with a huge archway leading to the outdoors, white sandy beaches and a few hammocks. No need to keep the outdoors outside when the weather was so beautiful. Hardison's room was across the living area from Sophie's, and so she was surprised when the door to her room swung open, she hadn't heard him coming.<p>

"How many swimsuits did you pack, Woman?" Hardison questioned incredulously, noting the three different tops she was holding.

Sophie shrugged, "I wasn't sure how much free time we would have, so I packed them all."

"Okay then, let me rephrase, how many swimsuits do you own, Woman?" the same incredulous tone, but he had packed his swimming attire too, and Sophie knew he was mostly joking with her. Between the pool, the hot tub and the ocean, he could come up with plenty of excuses to swim.

"I only have five," she shrugged, but made a note to pick up another before they went back to the States. "When do we need to get our part started?"

"I have most of the documents finished," Hardison paused, "just a few finishing touches done tonight and tomorrow we should have free. Nate wants to wait until Abby's out of the Maldives just in case Rawling makes the connection," he explained to the grifter. "We do have to make a splash though, so Rawling's people see us here."

"Dinner?" Sophie grinned, lifting a pair of Louboutins out of her suitcase.

"I bet we can write it off as a business expense," Hardison smirked.

"Beach until then?" Sophie beamed, thoroughly pleased at the idea of evening out her tan, and getting to get all dolled up for dinner, even if it was only with Hardison.

* * *

><p>Nate tapped his foot impatiently, pulling a tiny bottle of whiskey out of the mini-bar as he waited for Eliot to answer the phone.<p>

"Ey Nate, what's going on?" the hitter picked up on the fourth ring, right before the call went to voicemail.

"How is Parker?" the question was curt, but Eliot could tell that the aloof mastermind was concerned about his surrogate daughter.

"She's doing alright, bored as all hell, but we're outside right now," Nate raised an eyebrow, and Eliot could practically hear it through the phone. "She's in a chair, staying put," he clarified, a chuckle in his voice.

"Alright, tell her I hope she's feeling a little better," Nate sighed.

"I will, you got in alright?" Eliot wondered if Nate knew about the real connection between Parker and Rawling, wondered if it would change things, and he was almost tempted to bring it up, but he couldn't, wouldn't betray her trust like that.

"Yeah, flight was fine, I just heard from Hardison and Sophie, they're both doing alright as well. Not sure about Abby, since we can't contact her until she's out of the country, but she can hold her own." Nate filled the hitter in.

"Alright, sounds like you got everything under control. I got some friends over there in the Mediterranean, want me to give them a call?" Their professions were unspoken but Nate got the point.

"No, no. Abby has Rick with her, and the rest of us are fine without. It's practically just a vacation." Nate brushed off the offer.

"You sure? I think Shelley's in Greece. He could be there in no time." Eliot wasn't thrilled with the arrangement. There were too many variables, and he was too far away. Rawling and Jacobs were big time, and Parker had gotten seriously injured even with him there. He shuddered to think about what could have happened if he wasn't.

"It's under control. If anything goes south I'll let you know," Nate reassured.

"Fine," Eliot growled, unconvinced, but he saw no other options.

"Keep her distracted, Eliot," Nate warned, earning a laugh from the hitter, a genuine one.

"I'll try. Talk to you later," he chuckled as a response.

"Yeah, I'll be in touch," Nate nodded though Eliot couldn't see.

* * *

><p>"An interesting proposition," Rawling relented, a thoughtful expression on his face. He crossed his legs, sitting back in his chair and it took almost all of Abby's self-control not to shudder under his gaze. "But shelter isn't something I myself need, though some of my… acquaintances could make use of it. You'll have to offer me something that I could make use of personally."<p>

"My father thought you might say that. He's prepared to offer you twenty five perfect of the sales for every painting and sculpture. And if you'd like, a royal title with all accompanying benefits." She could see the man's interest perk, and had to resist the grin of satisfaction. Hardison had been right.

"Now that does have its appeal," the man's lips twitched up into a toothy smirk.

"Here are the official documents," officially forged by Hardison, actually. She handed him a folder. "Just a few signatures and everything will be in order, Mr. Rawling," Abby winked for good measure, and Rick who was standing behind her, silent but intimidating, placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Rawling pulled an ornate fountain pen out of his breast pocket. "An absolute pleasure doing business with you, Emeliana," his smile was practically lecherous as he signed the documents. "Perhaps we can do this again some time."

Abby forced a smile, "I hope so,"

She only breathed a sigh of relief as she shut the heavy door to her suite.

"Alrighty Ricky, that went well," she grinned, happy to have the man's wandering eyes off of her. "Next stop, Tonga." He just grunted in response.

* * *

><p>Parker giggled from the chair, a heavy wooden dining room chair that Eliot had dragged down from the apartment, and was now set in the lawn in front of the building. She pulled the tennis ball out of Fitzgerald's mouth with her good arm and tossed it across the grass again.<p>

"Parks, make sure you keep the ball away from the road," he warned. They'd let Fitzy off his leash, and while Eliot was confident that he wouldn't run off, no mutt could be blamed for chasing a ball into the street. She nodded.

"I know."

It was sunny, and not too warm, and Parker had guilt tripped Eliot into running to the corner store to buy chalk. "Draw Mr. Bunny next," she insisted, twisting to look at Eliot who was sitting on the sidewalk next to a large surprisingly detailed rendition of Fitzgerald.

"I don't know what Mr. Bunny looks like well enough," Eliot replied, rubbing chalk dust off his hands in the grass. He looked up at the thief, momentarily blinded as the sun caught her rings, and the hitter couldn't help but smile softly. It really wasn't too bad, pretending to be married to Parker. There wasn't even too much acting involved. His concern was genuine, the terms of endearment rolled off his tongue easily enough and they really didn't have much of an audience. Living with Parker was oddly comfortable, and even more oddly, he was glad that it was him taking care of her, instead of Hardison.

"Then draw a regular bunny," Parker always seemed to forget that not everybody had a memory like hers, though Eliot had made sure to explain it to her after the job with the kids with stupid names.

"Cartoon or realistic," he offered, picking up a piece of white chalk. He wasn't as skilled as Parker at drawing, but he was decent enough to amuse her with chalk art.

"Doesn't matter," she scratched Fitzgerald behind the ears as he returned. She mostly just liked watching him draw anyway, subject didn't matter, but she thought the way his brow furrowed and his tongue stuck out of the side of his mouth as he concentrated was both silly and cute, but she couldn't tell him that.

Eliot shrugged and set to work on yet another piece of artwork for the thief. Parker shifted in her chair, unable to get comfortable. Her back was searing despite the cushions Eliot had placed to keep her bruises and wounds off the hardwood. And despite the medication she had taken only an hour ago the staples in her stomach were on fire, and every move she made seemed to tug at the closures in her collar bone, but she wouldn't say anything. Not to Eliot. She trusted him, almost innately, he'd gone out of his way to prove himself, but really she'd trusted him since the beginning.

No. This was different. He was strong; he never complained or shared his pain with the team. Parker had never even seen him wince. Even when she'd hit him with the crow bar by accident, he'd just yelled at her for throwing it. She wouldn't be weak. He'd already seen her cry, heard her scream. If she have him anymore reason to think she was weak he might tell Nate, and they'd kick her off the team. Nobody wanted a weak link.

"Parks, you okay Darlin'?" Eliot interrupted her thoughts, and she wondered how long she had been lost in thought for. She glanced over at Eliot, and narrowed her eyes. In the time in which she'd been contemplating her injuries, Eliot had drawn not just a bunny in chalk, but a portrait of the thief. At least, she thought it was her, there were several obvious distinguishing features, but the drawing looked a little too perfect, the face a little too flawless, and Parker didn't see herself that way. But really, she couldn't help but wonder if that was maybe how he saw her.


	12. Chapter 12

Eliot was glad that Parker had settled down after dinner, and he knew she wasn't happy with the situation, but she seemed to be coping well enough, and they nestled down into the bed to watch another movie.

She was nearly asleep, half curled into Eliot's side when the movie ended, Ocean's Eleven selected by Parker naturally. The hitter shifted, wondering when he'd wrapped an arm around her and she looked so tired that he felt guilty waking her up. "Parker," he spoke softly, and his voice was husky from unuse. "Parker."

She shifted rolling onto her back with a sharp intake of breath, and a barely audible whisper, and Eliot sat straight up with his eyes fixed on her. He could tell she still wasn't quite awake, and he studied her critically. He'd given her more medication only an hour ago, and from the small movement, there was no reason it should have elicited that sort of reaction.

"Parker, Darlin'," he called softly, placing a hand on her shoulder and she finally seemed to have entered the world of the living. "Hey," he smiled as her eyes opened, "we need to change your bandages before you go to sleep," he explained, and Parker nodded pushing herself into a sitting position.

It worried Eliot, Parker's face remained stony and impassive as she moved, and he was sure that she was in pain, that she must be but wouldn't tell him. "Okay," her breathing was heavier than normal and another person might not have noticed, but Eliot did. It was his job to notice those things. He left, returning moments later with the new bandages, and what he needed to clean them.

She was surprised at how gentle his hands were, barely ghosting over her bare flesh, her loose shirt pushed up just high enough for Eliot to access the bandages on her back. She shivered involuntarily as Eliot brushed his knuckles down her spine, and she couldn't quite tell if it was intentional or not. He pressed a new bandage onto her back, and turned to face her. The broken arm was easy enough, and Eliot was pleased to note that swelling had definitely gone down. Her leg was also not a problem to clean and re-bandage, and he sat back, wondering how to address her collarbone hidden under the high necked shirt.

Parker seemed to get the hang-up, and rolled her eyes dramatically with a huff. She slipped her unbroken arm through the sleeve and from the hem; she lifted it over her head. And Eliot, to his credit, really did try to look away, but only managed to swallow dryly. He really didn't understand her opposition to undergarments.

"Parker," he growled, but his voice was huskier than he intended, and he sounded much less annoyed than he should have.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just finish," she tugged at the bandage adhered over her collarbone.

His mouth was far too dry to swallow and steeling himself, he moved in closer, trying with great difficulty to focus on just the bandage. He peeled the gauze from the top corner and his gaze couldn't help but fall slightly, and he really found it difficult to believe how impossibly smooth her milky white skin was, only marred by the open wound- the sight of the closures snapped his attention back, and he inhaled deeply before rinsing the wound and covering it again with a bandage, his fingers dusting just a bit lower than they really needed to.

She pulled her shirt halfway back on and shifted into a laying position so he could clean the last one, the incision on her stomach. He hovered over her, and if she didn't need to concentrate on her breathing so much she would have found Eliot's reactions delightfully amusing. He peeled back the last bandage and frowned with concern. It was red and swollen and Eliot gently pressed a few fingers to her abdomen near the incision.

"What?" Parker tried to sit up, but a firm hand from Eliot kept her down.

"It hurts, more than the rest, right?" he inspected the wound closely.

"No, I'm fine," she insisted, not liking the look on his face. Concerned, sympathetic. He was looking at her like she was weak, the last thing she had wanted.

"Parker, don't lie to me," he scowled, "I think this is infected. Are you going to pitch a fit if we go back to the hospital?" He asked, and started to clean the incision. She squirmed guiltily, and she really hated that condescending tone he used when he was mad at her, the one that made her feel like a child every time without fail.

"No, I won't," she replied softly, flinching severely as he pressed a piece of gauze to the wound. She wanted to ask him not to leave, wanted to tell him that she'd go as long as he didn't leave her alone, because hospitals scared her, and they reminded her of her brother who she had watched die in one. And they reminded her of the little girl she shared a room with Parker had watched her die too. And rationally she knew that people went to the hospital to get better, but to her it would always be a place people went to die. But she couldn't tell Eliot that. He was already acting like she was a little kid again, and Parker couldn't for the life of her figure out his swings. Only moments ago he'd been gaping at her with what she was sure Sophie would identify as lust, and not even a moment later he was asking if she'd pitch a fit.

I'm going to call Dr. Tadros," he seemed, weary about leaving, but Parker just nodded.

* * *

><p>Seth Jacobs was not a difficult man to find, Nate noted with grim satisfaction as he sat in his hotel suite in Malta with a newspaper in front of him. No, Jacobs was quite easy to find, there on the front page of the newspaper, along with the headline 'American Killed in Hotel Pool, No Leads.' Jacobs' death was not factored into the plan, and he was glad that the man hadn't been an important part the con, and that he only needed to tweak a few minor things. He couldn't quite decide whether he was glad the man was dead or not. He'd thrown Parker off the roof, deserved whatever he got, but Nate couldn't decide if death was a little too easy.<p>

The article encompassed nearly half the newspaper, very little news going in in Malta apparently, in the city he was in at least. He had nothing to do for a few hours more, until he heard from Abby, and he read the entire article. And Nate? He felt that sinking in his gut when they described how the man had been found- not because it disturbed him, for the most part that sort of thing didn't faze the son of Jimmy Ford.

His stomach sank because he recognized the signature. He'd seen it a number of times throughout the years he'd been working as an insurance investigator. The signature, it wasn't just someone he had chased, it was Eliot's. But Eliot was taking care of Parker, playing husband and doctor back in Buffalo, so it wasn't Eliot who had killed Seth Jacobs, Nate could be sure of that. The question was who had, and perhaps more importantly, why was Eliot's signature used?

* * *

><p>Abby wasn't really a fan of flying and Rick could certainly go without, and she had taken years to get over her fear of heights. Needless to say, they were both eager to get off of the Gulf Stream jet when they arrived in Toga. Nate had suggested that they just do business over the phone or by Skype even, but Abby knew it would be better to go in person, and she was happy to go. The king and prime minister of Tonga were both old friends of hers anyway...<p>

They were greeted much more warmly as they stepped off of the plane and the king's overly friendly men ushered them into a nice town car to make the drive to the palace. Conversation flowed easily enough, though Rick remained silent and impassive. They were all familiar to her though, the driver and their escort and when the door was opened for them, Abby stepped out of the car and into the open arms of the King of Tonga.

"My dear," the man smiled broadly, "so good to see you again." He gave her a critical once over, like Rawling had upon their meeting, but she wasn't bothered. With the king, she knew he was checking to make sure she was healthy, well fed; Rawling had just been checking her out.

"Nice to see you too, Uncle," she  
>beamed, "I know I mentioned to you on the phone, I have some<br>important things to ask." Abby started, glancing back at Rick who  
>had a smile plastered on his face for the first time all trip, while<br>a few of the maids doted on him.

"Yes yes, later," he waved it off, patting Abby's cheek, "now some food," he whisked her and Rick into the building and they all took seats at the long, ornate dining room table, Rick always at her side. "Eat up, Abigail, then we'll talk," the King smiled as food was served.

* * *

><p>It was late when Hardison and Sophie got back from their formal dinner, and they had spent the evening spending extravagant amounts of money and drinking too much champagne and all in all, calling attention to themselves.<p>

Sophie was practically stumbling as they entered their suite and parted ways to go and change out of their black-tie outfits. "Beach?" Sophie called from her room, even though it was nearly eleven thirty.

"Sure, Woman, just gotta finish up a few things for the job," he replied from his own room, though he changed back into his swim trunks anyway. The work he had to do could be done on the patio outside anyway.

It was still quite warm, and the salty sea breeze was comfortable as Hardison dragged huge folders out to the sandy patio and he set to editing the documents with skill beyond his years, and Sophie settled into one of the hammocks with a large glass of water, much less tipsy than she had appeared while they were out. Her cell phone rang, and she shifted in the hammock to reach it.

"Hello?" she asked cautiously, she didn't recognize the number, only that it had a Buffalo area code, and she had no idea who might be calling from there.

"Sophie?" Parker's voice settled the grifter, and she laid back down in the netted hammock, swaying slightly in the light breeze.

"Parker, what's the matter?" the last she knew, Parker was friendly but still angry that she had called Abby. Not that Parker would admit as much of course, but Sophie could read her. And so she knew it had to be important, Parker only ever called for advice.

"Things are weird."

"What do you mean, Parker?" Trust the thief to give such a cryptic answer that even Sophie couldn't figure it out.

"Eliot, he's being weird," Parker elaborated, though she was speaking in hushed whispers, and Sophie was fairly confident that Eliot was still in the apartment.

"Parker, I need a little more information than that. What is he doing exactly that is so weird?" She too avoided talking too loudly, hoping to avoid pulling Hardison into the conversation.

"He won't make up his freaking mind, Sophie, it's driving me nuts! He's such a baby; he can't even change my bandages without going all wonky. And one moment he's looking at me like he's going to eat me or something and the next he's talking to me like I'm six and going to throw a fit. And he's making me go to the hospital."

Sophie's eyes widened at the deluge of information. "Hold on, Parker," she took a moment, trying to process everything, "wait, what do you mean eat you?" Eyebrow raised, she had to wonder if that meant what she might assume. But she knew better than to assume with Parker involved.

"Yeah I took my shirt off so he could change the bandage on my collarbone and he just stared at me like he wanted to eat me." Sophie almost rolled her eyes before she remembered it was Parker, and she honest to god didn't understand, and Sophie didn't need to ask to know what exactly had inspired that reaction from Eliot. She just sort of grinned, everything falling into place.

"Parker, I know he's confusing you right now, but did you stop to think maybe you're confusing him too?"

* * *

><p>"What about Fitzy?" Parker asked as Eliot threw a backpack over his shoulder. "We're just going to leave him here?" She scratched the fluffy white dog behind the ears, and he let out a happy little yip.<p>

"Yeah, I just took him out, he has food and water, if we're gone too long I'll have someone go check on him," Eliot explained consolingly, though he was mildly impressed that Parker had thought about it. Parker, the killer of plants by dehydration.

"Okay," she relented sadly, and Eliot scooped her up off of the bed, prepared to carry her back down the stairs to his truck. She inhaled sharply, and he knew the infected incision hurt much more than she was willing to let on, and he could understand that. He knew where she was coming from. But he was worried, and slightly hurt that she couldn't even admit to him that she was in pain. Eliot, he preferred to suffer in silence, but he also knew how to take care of himself, knew exactly what he could handle, and he knew if anything raised a red flag. But Parker? He wasn't sure she'd ever get things fixed if left to her own devices. He suspected she'd have said nothing, slowly dying of infection. His gut churned at the thought. Abdominal incisions were much more likely than the others to get infected, and it was certainly nothing to take lightly.

"Eliot?" She looked up at him under those blond bangs, her good arm looped around his neck as they started down the stairs.

"Yeah, Darlin'?" he furrowed his brows, concentrating on each step so he could be absolutely sure that he wouldn't fall.

"Thank you."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Okay, serious question. this is basically an impromptu poll, but I'd like for you all to let me know what you want to happen with Hardison. Love interest or no love interest? At this juncture, I can see it going either way, so its pretty much entirely up to you. As always, thanks for the lovely reviews!

* * *

><p>When they got to the hospital, Parker was practically trembling in his arms, and Eliot wasn't sure if it was from pain, or the infection, or fear, but in any case, his stomach churned uncomfortably. She had been silent the whole way, which was unusual for Parker in it of itself, but she was curled forward, a hand on her stomach attempting to stabilize any movement, and she looked so young, Eliot couldn't quite figure out what it was.<p>

They were placed right into a room, and though Eliot set her down on the bed, Parker noted how closely he was hovering, knuckles brushing her arm as he paced in his little rut next to the bed. "Eliot, are you okay?" She blinked up at him; she wasn't the most observant person, but Eliot was practically snarling, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Yeah, I'm fine, darling. You doing alright? I'm sure Dr. Tadros will be in any minute," he replied quickly, but Parker could tell he wasn't speaking the truth. Eliot wasn't one to worry needlessly, but he had been in the military, had fought in war over seas. He knew better than anyone just how easy it was for an infection to spread, how easy it was to die from it. And not that he'd admit it to anyone, but the possibility terrified him. Not just because it was his job, his obligation to keep the team safe, but because it was Parker. For some reason, that seemed to make it that much more important. A small hand curled around his, and his head snapped down, eye catching the rings, yellow diamond and platinum and he squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Mr. Kline? Maddie?" the doctor nodded upon entry, and Eliot just raised an eyebrow, thoroughly not impressed with the medical professional, and instead he only grasped Parker's hand more firmly.

"Instructions have been followed to a T, but the incision in her abdomen is starting to look infected," he had no desire to waste any time, and got straight to the point, punctuating his statement with a small growl.

The doctor nodded, and after some poking and prodding, seemed to agree that it was infected, "I'm going to run a few tests on the swab, just to make sure that it isn't something more than a basic infection," and not something infinitely more deadly, like MRSA, or a Staph infection. It wasn't spoken but that much was clear to the hitter. And he couldn't really help but fear the worse, it was his instinct.

Parker was started on antibiotics and the couple was left alone for a while. Only after Dr. Tadros left did Eliot sit down in the chair next to the bed and let go of her hand. "See? All better," Parker forced a smile, even she could see how tense Eliot still was, but he noted the small cringe as she turned slightly, and he wasn't reassured.

"Why don't you like hospitals?" Eliot blurted out, and it hadn't been what he intended to say at all, but the question was burning in the back of his mind, and so he let it hang there. They all knew why Nate was bothered by hospitals and everyone was already aware of why Eliot didn't like to go- he preferred to take care of himself when he could, but Parker was a question mark.

She flinched at the question, and Eliot almost regretted asking just because of that, but he wanted to understand her. He called her crazy, knew that she was crazy, but Eliot wanted to know what had made her that way. He needed to know what was so horrific in her past that she had caused herself more harm just trying to leave.

She took a deep breath, trying to remind herself that it was mature to talk about her fears. She didn't want Eliot to see her as weak, didn't want him to count her off, but she hated when he looked at her like she was a child. "People go to hospitals to die," she replied quietly, her thumb playing with the rings on her finger. She could remember every visit to the hospital, all except one.

"Parks, you know you're here to get better," Eliot replied, not quite sympathetically, but there was an odd hitch in his voice that Parker could hear, but didn't understand.

"My mom died first. I was too young to remember, but I remember when my dad died, and I spent three days in the hospital with my brother before he died. And the girl who shared his room, she didn't get better either. Melissa Ash, she died too. When I was in foster care, the only foster mother who was kind to me, she went to the hospital for a cough and she died too. I know people are supposed to get better here, but I guess that doesn't happen around me." She spoke all in one breath, and she was surprisingly collected as she admitted to her fear.

Parker squirmed under Eliot's gaze, and it wasn't really that 'I want to eat you' look that it had been before, and it made her more uncomfortable. She couldn't place the look, it wasn't something that Sophie had taught her, and she didn't know what to say.

"Parker," his voice was soft and raspy, and he reached out to cup her cheek gently, lightly. Parker didn't finch, but she couldn't quite meet his gaze, and his thumb stroked her cheek softly. And he stood up, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It has nothing to do with you, you're going to get better," he whispered.

* * *

><p>"Hardison?" Sophie called as she attempted unsuccessfully to sit up in the rope hammock. Her head was pounding a tattoo into the inside of her skull, and the knots in the hammock were pressing uncomfortably into her back and legs, and the bright morning sun was attempting to simultaneously blind her and fry her brain.<p>

"Woman. Puh-lease, do not yell," Hardison instructed, his voice following his footsteps onto the deck, a hand clasped over his eyes. They'd already both been tipsy when they returned to the suite, and after Hardison finished his work, and Sophie had ended her phone call with Parker, they'd both hit the water, mojitos in hand.

Okay so maybe it hadn't been the brightest idea either of them had, but Nate had shipped the two party fiends off to an island resort with almost no budget limit and no supervision. So really, Nate was lucky that it was just the two of them waking up with raging hangovers, and no company. Despite the pretty redhead who'd been eyeing Hardison at dinner, and despite his newly wounded heart that needed mending.

"Hardison help me up," Sophie demanded at a lower volume, her arms outstretched. Damsel in distress didn't even begin to explain her tone, Hardison noted half amused, half annoyed and he lifted the grafter out of the hammock with ease. He was nothing much compared to Eliot, but Hardison had gotten interested in computers back when they weighed upwards of fifty pounds.

"Thank you," she breathed before walking inside, flopping face first into the couch with a groan.

"Y'know, I always thought you didn't drink 'cause you didn't want to look like a hypocrite with Nate. But now I gotcha, you're just an awful drunk," Hardison chuckled, falling into the chair across from her.

"Shut up," Sophie's order was muffled by the pillow that her face was pressed into. It wasn't entirely true, she wasn't bad when she was drunk, just bad hung over, and it didn't take much. For some people it was only certain alcohols that lead to bad hang overs, her's were all the same, tequila or wine.

Hardison just chuckled again and wandered over to the mini-bar, downing four or five aspirin and carried a handful of the pills and a glass of water to Sophie. She sat up with a grateful smile and swallowed all of the pills.

"We're not doing that again."

"That's fine," Hardison smirked, "I got a phone call from Nate earlier. Abby is all settled in Tonga, so we can go start our part as soon as you pull yourself together." Sophie glared at him pointedly, resenting that he seemed much less affected by their alcohol consumption.

"I thought you didn't drink," she accused, thinking back and struggling to find a memory of Hardison drunk, other than the obvious last night.

"Oh chill out, you're just a lightweight," Hardison laughed.

Sophie scowled.

* * *

><p>Nate sat at the beach bar at the resort, having already downed all of the alcohol in the restocked mini-bar, and playing the tourist part well, he was dressed in khaki shorts and a white cotton button up. He was nursing a tequila sunrise, not quite feeling the burn of his usual Irish whiskey in the eighty five degree morning. He'd gotten a phone call from Abby only three hours ago, letting him know that her part had gone smoothly.<p>

He had passed on the information quickly to Hardison, having been unable to reach Sophie, and he left a message with Eliot as well. "Can I buy you a drink?" a soft female voice interrupted him from his wallowing.

"Excuse me?" Nate raised an eyebrow in confusion, turning to the petite blond who had spoken.

She laughed, a light tinkling sound, and she sort of reminded him of Maggie, back before they were married, before they'd lost their son.

"Can I buy you a drink?" She repeated, and Nate still looked suspicious, since the girl clearly looked quite a bit younger than he was.

"Uh no thank you," he shook his head, "I have a meeting in an hour, I've actually got to go. Sorry," Nate smiled apologetically, downing the rest of his drink as he stood up.

"That's too bad," she pouted slightly. "If your meeting doesn't take too long, call me," she winked unabashed at him, writing her name and number down on a napkin. Sonya. Nate stuffed the napkin in his pocket with a nod, inwardly cursing at his own morals. And he walked away; they were still working a job after all.

He returned to his room and collected the file folders that Hardison had given him before they left the United States. An assortment of papers, all precisely forged, they'd pass an inspection. Hardison really didn't get enough credit for his forging.

It was a short trip to the police station via taxi, and he walked inside. "Excuse me sir, can I help you?" A secretary asked in Maltese, though she repeated the question in English when she saw the look of confusion on his face.

"Yes, I need to speak with Javier Montarlo," Nate held up his file folder with a small grin.

* * *

><p>As suspected, the infection turned out to be nothing serious but Dr. Tadros sat down with the couple, requesting that Maddie spend the night, just one night, and for once, Eliot didn't answer for Parker, she had come willingly, and after her admission, he knew he owed her the choice.<p>

She had nodded slowly, "one night, we leave in the morning," she stipulated, but Dr. Tadros seemed satisfied, and agreed before moving on. Parker settled down into the hospital bed, and Eliot could see that she was still shaking, ever so slightly.

"Thank you for cooperating," Eliot smiled earnestly, taking her hand again, his fingers brushing over the diamond rings. Married, they were supposed to be married. For some reason the fact that they were supposed to be putting on a ruse kept slipping his mind. Caring for Parker, living with her, it all came so easily, at least compared to what he had expected. And despite all the worrying, and the little hiccups they'd run into along the way, he was practically enjoying himself. It was so different, their interactions not dictated by a con.

No, that wasn't right. They were being dictated by a con, but he couldn't seem to remember that. "It's almost eleven, you should probably try to get some sleep, Darlin'," he breathed, worried about her as he noted her sweating palm, and the twitch of her fingers in his grasp.

She shook her head, lip trembling slightly, "I can't," she rasped out, her voice cracking softly, her fingers tightening around Eliot's.

"It's alright, I'll be here the whole time, just close your eyes and take some deep breaths," Eliot replied, wondering when he'd gone so soft when it came to her.

"Can you lay with me?" he could tell from her voice that she was on the brink of crying, and she was cursing internally that she couldn't pull herself together in front of him. She could only imagine what he was thinking.

He held back a growl, positive that he was being manipulated by her, and while he'd never been on toe leave a woman in need, there was just something about Parker that was a punch to the gut, over and over. He took care of his own, his sister, Aimee, the team. It wasn't just a job, it was an instinct, to protect, to care for, but with Parker it just mattered that much more. He wasn't sure if it was because he knew her background, or because she looked so damn helpless sometimes, even though he knew she was tough. He just couldn't say no.

"Fine," Eliot nodded, and climbed into the bed, careful not to jostle her too much, he didn't want to aggravate any of her injuries. She curled into his side immediately, and he could feel her shaking much more acutely as she buried her face into his chest. He curled an arm around her, exactly placed not to disturb her wounds, and he rested his chin on top of her head as he listened to her breathing even out and her body relax as she fell asleep.

Still awake, Eliot remained impossibly still; the last thing he wanted to do was to wake her up, and even though he couldn't fall asleep, he was comfortable. He was more than comfortable actually, it was practically natural, and he hadn't even noticed that he was smiling until it disappeared from his face, replaced by a frown. Not good. Not good at all.


End file.
